


The Anakin Disaster

by skywalkersamidala



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pregnancy, Slow Burn, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8120845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkersamidala/pseuds/skywalkersamidala
Summary: Padmé is mortified upon waking up beside her strictly platonic childhood best friend Anakin Skywalker the morning after a drunken one-night stand. A couple weeks later, she discovers that's the least of their problems.





	1. Chapter 1

Padmé awoke with a pounding headache, and she promptly squeezed her eyes shut again to block out the blinding sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the curtains. She raised a hand to rub her temples—and brushed against something lying beside her. Or rather, some _one._

She froze, heartbeat speeding up a little. Someone had gone home with her the night before? Well, she was most definitely naked, she realized, which would indicate that someone _had_ gone home with her. Or maybe she had gone home with someone? Was she even in her own apartment? Padmé opened her eyes again and let out a small sigh of relief upon seeing that she was indeed in her own bedroom.

She glanced to her right, but whoever had gone home with her was still asleep, facing away from her and burrowed under the blankets, so she couldn’t tell who he was, though his hair was an oddly familiar shade of light brown…She closed her eyes a second time and tried to think back to the previous night. It was starting to return to her in bits and pieces. She’d gone to the bar with Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka to celebrate Obi-Wan’s promotion. They’d gotten _quite_ drunk, and eventually Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had gone home. Padmé couldn’t distinctly recall Anakin’s departure, but presumably he had left with the other two, seeing as the three of them all lived in the same apartment.

She’d stayed at the bar for a while afterwards, though if her friends had all left, Padmé wasn’t sure why she would’ve wanted—oh, yes, she _did_ remember why she’d wanted to stay longer. She remembered _someone’s_ hot, insistent mouth on hers, being pressed against the wall with _someone’s_ hand up her skirt, falling into a cab with _someone,_ dragging _someone_ into the bedroom upon arriving at her apartment.

Padmé remembered thinking in the back of her mind that it was funny how good sex felt with _someone_ who had played on the playground with her in kindergarten, who had walked to and from school with her nearly every day, who had gotten in a fistfight with a boy who’d insulted her in seventh grade, who had scared her nearly half to death the first time he’d driven her somewhere after getting his license, who had gone to prom with her because they were best friends and couldn’t fathom going with anyone but each other, who had cried with her at their high school graduation and promised they’d never lose touch, who had Skyped her every weekend in college and made frequent trips across the country just to see her in person, who had found a job in the same city as her so they wouldn’t have to be separated again, who had—

Wait. What?

No. It couldn’t be.

There was no way she’d slept with _him_.

Padmé was just misremembering.

Wasn’t she?

A loud groan yanked her back to the present, and the person beside her started to stir. Dread mounting in her gut, Padmé slowly, slowly turned her head to the right once again—

And came face to face with Anakin Skywalker.

_Shit._

“Hey, Padmé,” he said, squinting at her and looking as though he had a hangover to rival hers. Then, after a few seconds, his face paled and eyes widened to such an extent it would have been comical if Padmé wasn’t so panicked. _“Padmé?”_

She could do nothing more than gape at him, dumbfounded and horrified. She had slept with Anakin Skywalker. Anakin Skywalker, her best friend in the world since age five. What in the name of all things holy could have possessed her to do such a thing? Padmé wasn’t even attracted to him; how could she be, when she could still remember clear as day the time in second grade he’d eaten an entire sheet of cookie dough and promptly vomited all over her brand-new shoes? Or the time only a week ago when he’d called her, sounding on the verge of tears, to say that there was a very large and murderous-looking spider (in reality, it was tiny and fairly innocuous) in the kitchen and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka weren’t home and could she please come over really quick to squish it for him?

Padmé had seen Anakin at his literal worst countless times in their twenty-seven years of life. There was no _way_ she could be attracted to him after all that. He was like her brother. Although she had to admit, the way he looked right then with the morning sunlight hitting his hair just so, the way he’d looked the night before when—

Oh, _God._ She _really_ remembered last night now. All her maybe-nothing-actually-happened hopes were wholly crushed. She most definitely had slept with her best friend.

Padmé blinked rapidly and desperately attempted to calm herself (it didn’t work). “I, uh—” She cleared her throat and tried again, though she had no idea what to say. “Well. Um…”

Anakin spent several more moments looking as if he’d seen a ghost, and then he rolled over onto his back, determinedly tearing his gaze away from her. “I’ll just—I’ll just go,” he informed the ceiling.

He stood up, and as the sheet fell away from his body, Padmé hastily hid under the covers, face flaming when she didn’t avert her eyes quite fast enough. She heard Anakin stumbling around the room putting his clothes back on for a minute or two, then the bedroom door opened and shut again, and it was soon followed by the sound of her apartment door closing.

It was a long while before Padmé climbed out of bed. Her problems seemed so far away when she was huddled in a cave of blankets (also, the mere thought of getting up and turning the lights on made her head throb with renewed vigor). But then she started thinking about the fact that she’d ridden her best friend about two inches away from the spot she was currently lying in, and that memory made her think about how she was surprisingly unsurprised that Anakin liked being submissive in bed, and that thought made her cheeks burn yet again as she frantically shook her head to try to forget the image, and then Padmé decided maybe lying around all day wouldn’t be so great after all.

Feeling like she’d swallowed sandpaper and subsequently been run over by a truck, she shuffled into the kitchen and proceeded to guzzle a glass of water and an aspirin, then forced herself to eat a banana. Once her queasiness had abated somewhat, Padmé made some eggs and ate those, too. After that, she took a very lengthy shower to wash off any and all traces of what had happened the night before.

The phone rang as she was toweling her hair dry. “Hello?” Padmé said groggily.

“You sound as shitty as I feel,” said Ahsoka’s voice on the other end. “Obi-Wan’s fine, of course, smug bastard. I swear to God, one of these days the three of us are going to manage to get him plastered.”

Padmé gave a small chuckle despite how physically (and emotionally) terrible she was feeling. None of them had ever seen Obi-Wan truly drunk, though they weren’t sure if it was that he’d never actually gotten drunk in front of them, or if he had but was simply good at hiding it. “Not fair. We were only there to celebrate _his_ promotion. He should be experiencing the consequences along with the rest of us.”

“Tell me about it. How long did you and Anakin stay after we left?”

“I don’t know,” Padmé said, which wasn’t actually a lie. “It’s all kind of a blur.”

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know who he went home with, would you?” Ahsoka asked, sounding highly interested. “He came back here, like, two hours ago wearing the same clothes from last night. But he’s been shut up in his room ever since, so I haven’t been able to ask him about it.”

“I don’t know,” Padmé said, which very much _was_ a lie. She bit her lip. Should she tell Ahsoka? Ahsoka usually gave pretty good advice. On the other hand, Padmé had already ruined her friendship with Anakin. The last thing she needed was to tell Ahsoka and Obi-Wan about it and make things weird between all four of them. No, this secret was best left buried. Preferably a thousand feet underground where there was no chance of it ever seeing the light of day again.

They spent a little while swapping stories from the night before (she tried her best to just listen to Ahsoka and not have to come up with anything herself) and by the time she hung up, Padmé was feeling slightly better, though her hangover was still prevalent enough to make anything beyond a nap seem entirely unappealing, so she decided to do just that. She returned to her bedroom, stripped off the sheets and remade the bed with a clean set, moved to toss the old ones in the laundry, decided that washing them wouldn’t be nearly enough to make her forget about The Anakin Disaster, and dumped them in the trash instead.

Padmé spent the rest of Saturday in a zombie-like state, which at least kept her from thinking too much about Anakin, or about anything at all, really. But when she woke up Sunday morning, her hangover had fully vanished—and her thoughts of Anakin had fully returned. After breakfast, she tried reading a book, but she couldn’t focus, so she decided to go for a run to clear her head.

Padmé didn’t exercise nearly as much as she knew she should—she simply never had the time for it, not to mention she’d never really been fond of athletic activities—but it was a good way to distract herself from thinking about the fact that _holy shit, she’d just slept with Anakin and now their twenty-year friendship was going to be destroyed forever and how had she been capable of having sex with someone she used to have doll tea parties with and he was never going to talk to her again and had they really been so drunk that neither of them thought sleeping together would be a bad idea and her memory was now clear enough for her to know that he had actually been_ very _good in bed, why was he so good in bed?_

Yeah, her run didn’t end up distracting her at all.

When she returned, Padmé’s state of mind was no different than it had been when she’d left, except she was now sweaty, tired, and in an even worse mood. She showered quickly, then took out her laptop and started going over the mayor’s proposed budget plan. Normally she was all too glad to leave her job as city councilor behind when the weekend arrived, but that day Padmé needed something to do or else she might literally lose her mind. Although, judging by the fact that she’d slept with Anakin, she’d probably already lost it.

All things considered, Padmé was unusually eager for the work week to resume. At least this way she’d be too busy to dwell on The Anakin Disaster. Except her brain didn’t seem to get the memo, and she dwelled on it anyway, though fortunately a _little_ less than she had over the weekend. The next Saturday, Obi-Wan invited her over for pizza and a movie. Padmé considered the offer for a while. She _definitely_ didn’t want to see Anakin, but the more time she spent alone, the more time she spent thinking about The Anakin Disaster. Besides, he was likely as uneager to see her as she was to see him, so maybe he wouldn’t even be there. Padmé accepted the invitation and uneasily made her way over to their apartment that evening.

She had mixed feelings (mostly relief) upon arriving and seeing that Anakin was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Anakin?”

“He volunteered to pick up the pizza,” said Obi-Wan. “Which took us by surprise, seeing as he never wants to do anything helpful.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka agreed. “He was weirdly insistent, too.” He was probably hoping to avoid Padmé for as long as physically possible. “Actually, he’s been acting weird all week. We can’t figure out what’s going on with him.”

“Huh,” said Padmé, willing herself not to break out into a nervous sweat. “That’s funny.”

She tried to relax as the three of them flopped onto the couch and chatted while they waited for Anakin to return with the food, but she immediately went back on high alert when she heard a key scraping in the lock. A moment later Anakin was walking in, shutting the door behind him, and turning around to face them.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Padmé. “Oh,” he said awkwardly. “Padmé. Hi.”

“Hi,” she mumbled, glancing at him for only a second before looking away again.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Obi-Wan and Ahsoka give them puzzled looks, but luckily they were quickly distracted by the pizza, and no one commented on the tension as they all dug in. As the evening progressed, if Obi-Wan or Ahsoka noticed that Padmé and Anakin only ever spoke to them and not each other, they didn’t say anything.

Within twenty minutes, Padmé was seriously regretting her decision to show up. Rather than distracting her from The Anakin Disaster, it was just making her think about it even more than she would have if she’d stayed home with only her thoughts for company. Not to mention that the way she and Anakin were steadfastly ignoring each other all but confirmed her fears that their friendship was permanently lost. Claiming exhaustion, Padmé left as soon as the movie was over.

* * *

The following week, she started wondering if she’d gotten bad karma for lying, because she suddenly was actually exhausted all the time. She took a nap right after work nearly every day, but even then Padmé was frequently overwhelmed with fatigue. Probably just stress from work. And also the stress of having slept with her best friend. Padmé slept late on Saturday, and she woke up to a text from Ahsoka asking if she wanted to come over.

 _Is Anakin there?_ she replied.

 _No, he has that back-to-school craft fair thing._ As a kindergarten teacher, Anakin always got roped into helping out at school events; the PTO probably thought he was an easy target, seeing as he would never refuse to do something that would benefit his students. _Why??_ Ahsoka added a second later.

Padmé could practically feel her suspicion through the phone. _Just wondering. I’ll be over soon._

“I need to talk to you,” Ahsoka announced as soon as Padmé arrived, and Padmé strongly considered turning around and marching back out again.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?” she stalled.

Ahsoka shrugged. “I don’t know, probably the library or somewhere nerdy like that.” She steered Padmé over towards the couch and practically pushed her onto it. “All right, talk.”

Padmé decided to feign ignorance as long as possible. After all, maybe Ahsoka had something else in mind and Padmé’s guilty conscience had just immediately jumped to The Anakin Disaster when that wasn’t at all what the other girl wanted to talk to her about. “Talk? About what?”

“About why you and Anakin are being so weird around each other.” Well, there was that hope dashed.

“What do you mean? We’re not being weird,” Padmé lied.

Ahsoka heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Padmé, you’ve barely said two words to each other the past couple weeks. I’ve hardly even seen you _look_ at each other since…I don’t know, the last time we went to the bar, maybe? Also, Anakin gets all shifty-looking whenever someone mentions you.”

“He does?”

“Yeah, and apparently _you_ get all shifty-looking whenever someone mentions _him._ ”

“I don’t look shifty,” protested Padmé, who most certainly did look shifty.

“Come on, I know you both so well. I can tell when something’s bothering you,” Ahsoka said impatiently. “And it’s not just me, Obi-Wan’s noticed, too.”

“Good for him.”

“Just tell me what’s wrong. I’m your _friend._ That’s what friends _do._ ”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Padmé insisted. “You’re imagining it.”

But Ahsoka was shaking her head. “I’m _not._ Now that I think about it, you two are acting exactly the way my friends did in college whenever they slept with each other and then felt weird about it. If I didn’t know better—”

She abruptly broke off as a deep, incriminating flush spread across Padmé’s cheeks. Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. Did you sleep with Anakin?”

“No!” Padmé said immediately, sounding panicked even to her own ears. “Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous. Anakin is—I would never—I don’t even like him! At all! He—he’s the worst! Why would I sleep with him? Maybe—maybe _you’re_ the one who slept with him, and you’re just trying to throw me off!”

“Oh my God,” repeated Ahsoka. “You fucking slept with him!”

“No, I didn’t!” Padmé wailed, and she buried her face in her hands.

A moment later, she felt Ahsoka pat her on the back. “Padmé, it’s okay. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t know you felt that way about him.”

“I _don’t_ feel that way about him,” she moaned. “It’s—I don’t know how it happened. It was at the bar two weeks ago, after you and Obi-Wan left. For some reason, we started—we started kissing and—and doing some, um, some other stuff, and then we went back to my place, and it just kind of happened. But I don’t know _why._ How could we both have been that drunk?”

“It’s not the end of the world,” Ahsoka said soothingly. “You’ve been best friends for, what, twenty years? This isn’t going to change that. I’m sure your relationship’s made it through worse.”

Padmé lifted her head to stare incredulously at her. “Worse than a drunken one-night stand?”

“Well, out of all the people in the world you could’ve had a drunken one-night stand with, isn’t your best friend one of the better options?”

“Definitely not. I’d much rather it have been someone I didn’t know at all and would never have to see again. Someone who I wouldn’t care if they’ve been avoiding me for two weeks.”

“Maybe you’re the one avoiding him,” Ahsoka countered. “Look, just talk to him about it. Nothing will get resolved if you both keep trying to pretend it never happened. You need to get everything out in the open so you can move past this and go back to normal.”

Padmé knew she was right, but the idea of having such a conversation with Anakin was possibly the most daunting prospect she’d ever faced in her life. “What if he says he hates me and never wants to talk to me again?”

“If he does, tell me, and I’ll punch him in the face for being such an idiot.”

Stressed as she was, Padmé couldn’t help but laugh at the sentiment. She’d always privately worried that Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan too, were more Anakin’s friends than hers, and right now she was immeasurably grateful for the other girl’s support. Not that she was anticipating Ahsoka having to take sides in a fight between her and Anakin, but still.

They sat in reflective silence for a few minutes before Ahsoka said slyly, “So, how was it?”

Padmé’s eyes narrowed. “How was what?”

“You know. Was he any good?”

_“Ahsoka!”_

“I’m just curious,” Ahsoka said, snickering. Then she made a face. “Although, on second thoughts, I’d kind of rather not think about it.”

“Join the club,” muttered Padmé. “If you must know…yes, he was quite good, actually. Possibly the best I’ve ever had, although that could’ve just been the alcohol making it seem that way. It really gets rid of your inhibitions. Like, _really._ No filter whatsoever.”

Ahsoka gagged. “God, _stop.”_

Thankfully, the conversation soon moved on to lighter topics, and Padmé very nearly forgot about Anakin altogether—until he came walking in the front door. “Oh. I should go,” she said hastily, standing up.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you only just got here,” Ahsoka said, pulling her back down and shooting her a look that clearly said _you are going to sit down with him and talk this through right now, so help me God._ “How was the craft fair, Skyguy?”

“Good,” replied Anakin, looking anywhere but at Padmé. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, not much. Padmé and I were just hanging out. Hey, I just remembered, I have to be somewhere,” Ahsoka said vaguely, and she swiftly stood and raced out the door before either Anakin or Padmé could protest.

Padmé stared down at her hands and started picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. Curse Ahsoka to hell and back. Some friend she was, throwing Padmé to the wolves like this. The silence was thick and heavy around them; never before had Padmé so truly understood the phrase “you could cut the tension with a knife.” She heard Anakin shift his weight a little every so often, as if he was debating whether or not he should simply walk out of the room.

At last, when she could take it no longer, Padmé blurted out, “We need to talk.”

A brief silence. “Yeah,” said Anakin. Padmé glanced up and saw him slowly approaching. He nervously perched on the other end of the couch, looking as though he was ready to jump back up and sprint away at any moment.

“So,” she began, desperately casting about for the right words. “About…you know. The thing that happened.”

“Right. The thing.”

Padmé shifted awkwardly. “Look. You’re my best friend, Ani,” she said. “And it’s—I don’t want that to change. I hate that things are weird between us. I mean, I know it’s only been two weeks that we haven’t been talking, but I miss you.”

Anakin gave her a tiny smile, which was encouraging. “I miss you, too.”

“So can we just—just pretend it never happened?” Padmé asked hopefully. “We were both drunk, and it was a stupid mistake. I don’t want a stupid mistake to come in the way of our friendship.”

“A stupid mistake,” Anakin echoed. “Yeah. You’re right. It should never have happened.”

Padmé bit her lip. “We’re mutually agreeing to forget about it, then?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“So…are we good now?” she said rather lamely.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Cool.”

Except it didn’t _feel_ like they were good. On the contrary, Padmé felt just as awkward as she had at the beginning of the conversation, if not _more_ awkward. Maybe it would just take time. She hoped that was all it was, anyway. “Well, I should go,” she said. “I have some stuff to do.” She didn’t have any stuff to do, but she couldn’t stand sitting there any longer.

“Okay,” said Anakin. “See you later, then.”

“See you.” And Padmé departed.

Little did either of them know how drastically the aforementioned stupid mistake was about to change their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is something I've been working on for a while and it's actually mostly completed except for final editing and finishing up a few of the later chapters, so updates should hopefully be pretty quick, my schedule permitting. I think it'll end up being about 8-10 chapters total. Thanks for checking out chapter 1, and stay tuned for chapter 2!


	2. Chapter 2

Padmé wasn’t always very good about keeping track of her cycle, so it took her a few days to realize that her period was late. But once she _did_ realize, she was immediately overwhelmed with a cold terror. Surely she couldn’t be—well, it would explain her recent exhaustion…and the faint queasiness that had just started following her around…and the way her favorite sandwich at the lunch place next to city hall had suddenly seemed disgusting to her the day before…

No. There was no way she was… _pregnant._ Padmé felt another stab of uneasiness as she remembered that she’d stopped taking her birth control pill a little over a year ago; once she’d broken up with Rush Clovis, she’d figured there was no need for it anymore since she was no longer regularly having sex. In fact, Anakin was the first person she’d slept with after ending things with Rush. She chewed her bottom lip. Why hadn’t she rushed out to buy a morning-after pill as soon as Anakin had left that day? Had she really been too busy worrying about the emotional consequences of sleeping with him to even _think_ about the possible physical ones? Or maybe she’d just been too hungover.

But even though she hadn’t taken any pills, they’d still used protection, hadn’t they? Her lip started bleeding a little as she gnawed on it even harder, realizing she couldn’t fully recall. That particular detail was still lost somewhere in her hazy, alcohol-clouded memories of that night. But they _must_ have. Even drunk, Padmé wouldn’t have been stupid enough to have unprotected sex. Right?

On the other hand, no contraceptive method was one hundred percent effective…and condoms were definitely less effective than birth control pills…even if they had used one, it could’ve broken or been expired…

Padmé spent the rest of the workday googling condom failure rates and early pregnancy symptoms, and by the time she got home, she was about ready to die of panic. She sank onto the sofa and forced herself to take several deep breaths. She was paranoid and overreacting. She wasn’t pregnant. The fatigue and nausea could easily be explained by some other illness, maybe a stomach bug or the flu or something. Besides, she hadn’t actually _been_ sick yet, only felt vaguely queasy from time to time. If it was morning sickness, she’d be throwing up constantly, wouldn’t she? That’s how it always was in the movies. And her period was just a little late, that was all. It would probably arrive the next day.

But it didn’t, and there was no trace of it the day after, either, or the next day or the next day or the next, and Padmé could barely concentrate on anything anymore. Her coworkers kept asking her if there was something bothering her, and she avoided her friends like her life depended on it. After all, she couldn’t exactly sit calmly in a room with Anakin while wondering if she could possibly be _pregnant with his child,_ and she was in no mood to have another talk about The Anakin Disaster with Ahsoka, or with Obi-Wan, whom Ahsoka had probably spilled the beans to by then.

Eventually, a week or so after her original talks with Ahsoka and Anakin, Padmé decided there was nothing else for it, and she went to the drugstore and bought a pregnancy test. She’d just take it quickly, and it would come up negative, and then she could stop worrying. As she waited for the results to appear, Padmé paced nervously up and down the bathroom. What would her and Anakin’s child look like, anyway? Perhaps a boy with his blue eyes and her smile, or a girl with her brown eyes and his nose. Padmé squeezed her eyes shut and gave her head a little shake. Why was she thinking about that? She wasn’t pregnant. She _wasn’t._

After the longest minute of her entire life, Padmé reached out a shaking hand and picked the test back up. Slowly, she turned it over and looked in the little window…

Positive.

The room started swimming before her eyes, and Padmé clutched the bathroom counter for support, taking short, gasping breaths. She was—she was _pregnant._ Pregnant with _Anakin’s_ baby.

What the _hell_ was she going to do?

Padmé stared numbly down at the positive test for several long minutes before hurling it into the trash and stumbling out into her bedroom. She collapsed onto the bed and curled herself into a ball, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

She’d always planned to have children someday, yes, but not _now._ It was too soon. She was only twenty-seven. She wasn’t ready. Padmé’s career was in a pretty good place, good enough that financially speaking, supporting a child wouldn’t be a problem—something that couldn’t be said for most other single twenty-seven-year-olds—but she’d hoped to advance farther than local politics before starting a family.

Did this even count as starting a family? She wasn’t having a baby with a loving and supportive partner whom she was in a stable, long-term relationship with. If that had been the case, Padmé would’ve felt a lot better about the whole thing, regardless of any career worries. But no, she was having a baby with her best friend whom she’d accidentally slept with once while drunk.

Anakin. What was he going to think? How was he going to react? Perhaps she could lie and say she’d slept with some other guy around the same time, and it was his baby, not Anakin’s. Or maybe she could just flee to Australia, change her name, and never talk to him again. Padmé sighed. The latter scenario wasn’t remotely realistic, and the former wouldn’t be fair to Anakin. She’d have to tell him the truth. But how could she? _Hey, so you know how we stupidly slept together and agreed to forget about it? Well, guess what, we will literally never be able to forget about it ever again, because I’m pregnant! We’re going to be parents even though we’re not ready! Also, our friendship is permanently destroyed! Hooray!_

That was when Padmé let the tears start to fall, and she clutched her pillow tightly as she wept into it. This truly was the end of their friendship, it had to be. More than twenty years of love and trust and laughter, all gone because of a single night of not thinking things through. Anakin was going to hate her for this. If _she_ wasn’t ready for a baby, he _definitely_ wasn’t. Kindergarten teachers didn’t get paid nearly as well as city councilors, but she knew Anakin would insist on helping out financially (assuming he didn’t flee to Australia himself, of course) even though there was no way he could afford it. And he’d always been far less mature than Padmé. How would he be able to handle being a father when he still acted like a college student half the time?

But then she thought of the previous spring, when she’d gone to the elementary school road race Anakin had been volunteering at. She thought of the way one kid had fallen and scraped her knee, and the way Anakin had rushed over with the first aid kit, and the way the girl’s tears had quickly been replaced by giggles as he’d joked around to make her feel better. Padmé thought of the way two other kids had gotten into an argument about who’d crossed the finish line first, and the way Anakin had crouched down so he could talk to them at eye level like they were his equals, and the way the kids were smiling and high-fiving each other by the time his intervention was over.

She thought of the way he always laughed when regaling her, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka with amusing tales of things his kindergarteners had done, or glowed with pride when discussing how far they’d come over the course of the year. These recollections soothed Padmé a little, enough so that her sobs slowed to a halt, though some sniffles continued. Yes, Anakin was immature when hanging out with friends (who wasn’t?) but when he was actually around kids, he was great. After all, if he was good enough with kids to be a kindergarten teacher, surely he’d be a natural at being a dad. And if he liked kids enough to _want_ be a kindergarten teacher, maybe he’d want to be a dad, too.

Padmé snorted quietly. Here she was, thinking about whether or not Anakin Skywalker would be a good father to her child. How had her life come to this?

Her thoughts soon turned back to their original course. How was she going to tell him? Hell, how was she going to tell _anyone?_ Her parents would likely be less than pleased that she’d gotten pregnant from a one-night stand, and when they found out Anakin was the father…they’d known him for twenty years and had always loved him, but it was still going to be a massive shock, and she had no idea how they’d take it. Padmé sent a quick prayer of thanks skyward when she thought of how Sola would react. Her older sister was extremely understanding and would probably be one of the only people who wouldn’t judge Padmé even a little bit. Not to mention she had two kids of her own, so she’d be able to give her some tips.

What about Obi-Wan and Ahsoka? Padmé winced slightly. They’d be supportive, of course, but it would still be weird for them. The status quo of their platonic quartet was now being upset by the fact that Padmé and Anakin were having a damn _baby_ together. Their group dynamic would never be the same again. Plus, what if Anakin _did_ react badly? What if he and Padmé got into a fight about it? That would put their other friends in an extremely awkward position…well, she’d just have to hope it wouldn’t come to that. And as for everyone she worked with, when they found out she was pregnant without having any semblance of a significant other, Padmé was sure they would all gossip behind her back, except for maybe Bail Organa, Satine Kryze, and the handful of others she considered friends.

But then, rather than wondering how other people would feel about her having a baby, Padmé began wondering how _she_ felt. She sat up and hesitantly placed a hand on her stomach. Was there really a baby inside her? A tiny little life for which she’d be responsible? The idea was overwhelming, to be sure, but at the same time…Padmé was having a baby. A child of her very own. She was going to be a mom.

She startled herself by starting to _smile._ The circumstances were far from ideal, but she _had_ always dreamed of having a child, and now it was finally happening. And as for Anakin being the father…was that really so bad? He was her best friend, after all. Padmé would have preferred having a drunken one-night stand with a stranger, as she’d said to Ahsoka, but when it came to having a _baby,_ surely Anakin was a good option. Maybe the _best_ option, aside from a significant other, of course. Navigating parenthood would probably be so much easier to do with someone she’d known for twenty years than someone she’d met at a bar one night. Tears now dry, Padmé took several deep, slow breaths to calm herself further, her panic starting to subside a little bit. Everything was going to be fine. It _had_ to be.

She was briefly tempted to wait as long as physically possible before telling anyone she was pregnant—maybe she’d be lucky and wouldn’t start showing for several months—but ultimately, Padmé had never been one to procrastinate, so by the end of the day she’d resolved to share the news soon. Her first instinct was to call Sola, or Ahsoka, or maybe even Obi-Wan, and ask them what the hell she was supposed to do about this, but she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t tell anyone before she told Anakin. It wouldn’t be fair. Besides, he’d always been the first person she turned to in a crisis. This situation shouldn’t be any different in that respect. Yes, she was going to tell Anakin first, and she was going to do it as soon as possible. Even though the idea of doing so terrified Padmé out of her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't have unsafe sex, kids. Sorry this chapter is so short, but hopefully that was made up for by the Totally Shocking And Unpredictable Development That No One Saw Coming At All Because It Definitely Wasn't Obvious Based On Chapter 1 And The Plot Summary lmaoo I'm also sorry this fic's been pretty introspection-heavy so far, but don't worry, there'll be lots of dialogue in the next chapter ;) A third apology: I've never been pregnant or known well anyone who has, so I'd like to apologize in advance for any mistakes/inaccurate info going forward, though I hope there isn't any bc I did so much pregnancy research to write this that I'm pretty sure I could have a baby myself right now and do pretty well lmao
> 
> Finally, thanks so much for all the nice feedback so far, I really appreciate it and hope you liked this chapter too! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter, I hope you like it!! :)

Padmé had found out about her pregnancy on a Tuesday, so she decided she’d tell Anakin that weekend when they both had more free time. God knew they were going to need _a lot_ of time to talk. On Saturday, she took a second pregnancy test just to be sure—still positive. She took a deep breath, pulled out her phone, and called Anakin.

He picked up after one ring. “Hey, Padmé. What’s up?”

“Hi,” said Padmé, trying to swallow her nerves. “Are you doing anything today?” _Aside from having your life permanently altered, if not ruined?_ she added silently.

“Nah, not really.”

“Okay. Could you—would you mind coming over to my place at some point? I–I need to talk to you. Alone. And in person. It’s important.”

There was a slight pause before Anakin said, sounding surprised, “Sure. What time?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m free now, if you are.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be there soon.”

Padmé hung up and proceeded to pace throughout her apartment, wringing her hands. _Calm down, Padmé. It’s going to be fine. Anakin’s your best friend. He’s not going to get mad at you._ But that didn’t stop her heart from hammering against her ribcage as if it was trying to get out, and she jumped about a mile when someone finally buzzed up to her apartment. She told Anakin to come up, and a few minutes later she heard a knock on the door.

Padmé steeled herself, then went to open it. “Hey. Thanks for coming,” she said, standing aside to let him enter and shutting the door behind him.

“No problem. What did you want to talk to me about? You sounded pretty serious on the phone.” Anakin looked at her in concern. “Padmé, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

No, she supposed she probably didn’t. In fact, not only was she more stressed than she’d ever been in her entire life, she was also feeling pretty queasy, though she couldn’t tell whether it was nerves-induced or pregnancy-induced. “It’s—well—let’s sit down,” Padmé stalled.

“All right.” Anakin sat on the sofa, and she gingerly sank down beside him. He turned to look at her expectantly. “So what’s going on?”

Padmé licked her lips nervously, every word of her pre-prepared speech flying out of her brain. Apparently she was going to have to wing it after all. “So…so you know the—the thing that happened?” she began. “A few weeks ago? Between us?”

Anakin raised his eyebrows, cheeks turning pink. “I thought we’d decided to forget about it?”

“I know. But—well—the thing is—” She stopped to take a breath, twisting her clammy hands in her lap. “Something—something happened that night. Well, obviously _something_ happened, but I mean something _else_ happened, something besides us—um—doing that. Or, actually, something happened _because_ of it.” Padmé felt herself flushing deeply, and Anakin had also reddened a little more.

“What else happened?” he prodded, looking both embarrassed and confused.

Padmé took another deep breath—and abruptly realized that she was going to be sick. _Seriously?_ Did her morning sickness really have to choose that _exact_ moment to start up for real? Then again, the timing was pretty typical of the cruelly ironic direction her life had been headed in lately.

She clapped a hand over her mouth and barely had time to register Anakin’s alarmed expression before she was shooting off the sofa and dashing over to the bathroom. Luckily, Padmé managed to make it (albeit just barely), and she immediately started vomiting into the toilet, now feeling gross and miserable in addition to anxious and scared.

“Padmé?” she heard Anakin say from the doorway a minute later. “What’s wrong?”

Padmé was, obviously, in no position to reply, but Anakin didn’t seem to mind, because after another few seconds she felt a hand resting on her shoulder and another holding her hair back. When she was done, she flushed the toilet and _intended_ to get up to brush her teeth, but what she actually ended up doing was staying exactly where she was and bursting into tears.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Anakin said, reaching for her again, but Padmé shook him off and scooched backwards until she was sitting with her back against the wall, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. “What is it, Padmé? Are you sick or something? Tell me what’s going on. Please.”

Bless his heart, he _still_ hadn’t put two and two together, even after the eloquent introduction she’d given before her bout of nausea. Padmé leaned forward to rest her head on her knees, as if trying to hide from Anakin, and she started working on stopping her sobs and slowing her breathing. Eventually she managed it, and then she said in a tiny voice, “I—I—I’m—” Padmé’s face was still in her knees and she couldn’t see anything, but she squeezed her eyes shut anyway. “Ani, I’m—I’m pregnant.”

She was pretty sure she could hear the apocalypse in the utter silence that followed. After a painfully long minute Padmé finally lifted her head up and saw that the color had drained from Anakin’s face and he was staring at her with wide eyes and his mouth slightly open. The sight made her want to cry again. He was going to be so angry, she _knew_ he’d take it badly…

He took a shaky breath. “W-what?”

“It’s yours,” she added rather needlessly.

Anakin exhaled loudly and moved from a kneeling position to a sitting one, leaning against the bathtub and stretching his long legs out in front of him. “You—you’re joking,” he said numbly after another few minutes.

Padmé scowled at him. “Do I _look_ like I’m joking?”

“But—but I don’t—how?”

“What do you mean, _how?_ Do you need to revisit our middle school sex ed class?”

“But—but I—but—” Anakin looked lost and a little panicked, and Padmé reminded herself to be patient with him, seeing as he hadn’t already had a few days to adjust to the news like she had. “I—you mean, I—I’m gonna be a _dad?”_ he stuttered at last.

She nodded wordlessly. Anakin tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, looking shell-shocked and like he wasn’t about to say anything anytime soon, so Padmé ventured in a wobbly voice, “I know this is a shock, and I understand if you’re upset. So if you want me to, I can just—just tell everyone it was some random guy, and no one has to know it was you, and I can handle everything myself, and you don’t have to be involved, and—”

Anakin seemed to snap out of his daze, and he turned to stare at her with something like hurt in his eyes. “I don’t have to be involved? What’s that supposed to—do you not _want_ me to be involved?”

“I—I thought _you_ might not want to be. I was afraid you’d be mad at me,” Padmé mumbled, tears starting to well back up.

_“Mad_ at you? What kind of asshole do you think I am?” he asked indignantly. “Someone who’s just going to—to knock you up and abandon you? You’re my _best friend.”_

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I shouldn’t have assumed—I’m just _scared_ , Ani.” Her voice broke, and a moment later she was crying once more.

She heard Anakin moving, and then he was gently gripping her shoulders. “Don’t—don’t cry, please don’t cry, Padmé,” he said a bit awkwardly. “Let’s go back in the other room, and then we’ll—we’ll talk about this. Okay?”

Padmé took a shuddering breath and nodded. “I have to brush my teeth first.”

Anakin actually chuckled at that. That was a good sign, right? Maybe he wasn’t _too_ upset? “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

She did so, and then she followed Anakin back out to the living room. Padmé sat down a careful distance away from him on the sofa, hunching her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Ani,” she said quietly.

He frowned. “Sorry? Why?”

Padmé stared at him in disbelief. “Why? Because this is all my fault! I should’ve taken a morning-after pill or something but I didn’t even _think_ to, I was so _stupid_ —”

“C’mon, don’t talk like that,” Anakin interrupted, frown deepening. “It’s _not_ your fault. We’re both equally responsible, all right? I won’t let you blame yourself for everything.”

“It was just so stupid,” she whispered again. “We made a careless mistake while drunk, and now we’re going to spend the rest of our lives paying for it.”

The words came out harsher than she’d intended, and indeed she saw Anakin tense up a little. “Padmé, do you—?” He cleared his throat and paused for a long moment before saying in a low voice, “Do you not want to keep the baby?”

Padmé gazed at him in surprise, lips parting slightly. In truth, the option _had_ crossed her mind when she’d first found out, but she had swiftly discarded it. Yes, the circumstances of her pregnancy weren’t necessarily the best, but they were also far from the worst, and she’d soon realized that she _wanted_ this baby, regardless of how unexpected and awkward the situation was.

“No, I—I _do_ want to keep it,” she said, and Anakin let out a breath, visibly relieved. “But I just—I just don’t know what we’re going to do. We’re not ready to be _parents,_ Ani.”

Her tone was starting to border on hysterical again, so Anakin quickly moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. Padmé gratefully leaned against him, sniffling yet again, and buried her face in his shoulder as he rubbed her back. “It’s—it’s going to be okay,” Anakin murmured into her hair, sounding rather choked up himself. “Maybe we’re not ready right this _second,_ but we have nine months to figure stuff out. And we _will_ figure it out. Together. We’ve always done everything together. Why not parenthood?”

“So you—you’re going to help me?” Padmé asked, voice muffled in his shirt. “You’re not going to leave?”

Anakin squeezed her tighter. “Of course I’m going to help you. You’re my best friend. I will never abandon you, no matter what.”

Her spirits started to lift a little, and she pulled back slightly to look at him, though she still clung to him. “Promise?”

“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” But a moment later he sighed. “Except I don’t know—I mean, money’s already a little tight for me as it is. Having to support a kid—”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Padmé. “I’ll be able to afford everything myself.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Anakin said, just as she’d known he would. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“I don’t mind. Honestly, I don’t,” she insisted, seeing his skeptical look. “Yeah, obviously anything you can spare would be great, but when push comes to shove, I don’t care about getting financial support from you. I just need _emotional_ support. All I want is for you to be there for me. For… _us._ Me _and_ the—the baby.” It still felt weird saying that out loud. “I-I don’t want them to grow up without a dad.”

“Neither do I. Especially since I know firsthand what that’s like,” Anakin pointed out. A moment later he disentangled himself from the embrace and slowly reached a trembling hand out to rest on her stomach. “There’s really—?” And then, to Padmé’s relief, a small smile spread across his face. “My—my baby’s really in there right now?”

_“Our_ baby,” she corrected, starting to smile slightly herself.

“Our baby,” he repeated softly. Anakin looked back up at her with tears in his eyes, but judging by the smile he was still wearing, they were happy tears. Or at least, not _completely_ miserable tears. “Our baby. Padmé, we’re—we’re having a _baby.”_

Padmé let out a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “We are,” she agreed. And then Anakin pulled her into his arms once more and started to cry, which set her off again, and they sat there for several long, long minutes, crying and hugging and laughing a little bit, too.

At last Padmé drew away and asked hesitantly, “So you’re—you’re not upset?”

He shook his head, and her heart soared. “No. I mean, obviously I’m surprised. A _hell_ of a lot more than surprised, actually. And kind of terrified, too. But I’m not _upset.”_ Anakin bit his lip, then offered another tentative smile. “You know, I—I’ve always wanted kids.”

“So have I,” said Padmé with an answering smile, relief coursing through her. “Sure, this isn’t exactly how I’d planned for it to happen, and I’m scared too, but…I want this baby. _Our_ baby.”

“Me too.”

They sat quietly for a long time, trying to process everything that was happening. Padmé knew there was so much to say, so much to talk about, but she didn’t know how to put any of it into words. Finally, she simply asked, “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. But we have nine months,” Anakin said again. “We don’t have to do anything right now.”

“Well, we’re _not_ saving everything until the last minute,” Padmé protested, horrified by the very thought. “We need to figure out a custody agreement, and a name, and college funds, and—”

Anakin hurriedly shushed her. “We’re not going to worry about any of that yet. We _just_ found out we’re having a baby. I think we’re allowed at _least_ one day to just sit here and let it sink in.”

She sighed, though secretly she was relieved. Anakin had always been good at talking her down and making her relax whenever she started stressing out about something. “Fine. Oh, but I should probably make a doctor’s appointment,” Padmé said. She looked rather shyly at him, which felt strange. She’d never been shy around Anakin before. “Do you…do you want to go to it with me?”

He smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “Of course I do. I’m free any day after school. Or you can make it during school, and I’ll take the day off.”

“That’s a noble offer, but hopefully they’ll have something available in the late afternoon.”

They did, as it turned out, and Padmé made the appointment for half past three the following Thursday. She’d have to leave work a couple hours early, but Anakin would already be out of school by then. Once that was all settled, she said, “What do you think Obi-Wan and Ahsoka will say?”

“Oh, they’ll lose their minds, probably,” Anakin said cheerfully, and she laughed. “They don’t even know we—you know.”

“Ahsoka does.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You told her?”

“Yeah. I was freaking out,” said Padmé defensively. “I had to talk to _someone_ about it, and you obviously weren’t an option. Besides, she cornered me and practically forced me to tell her, so it really wasn’t even my fault.”

“Fair enough. But I hope she hasn’t told Obi-Wan. I’d love to be able to shock him, at least.”

Padmé laughed again, but a moment later her smile faded. “And what about our families? We should probably tell them before we tell anyone else.”

Anakin sighed. “You’re right. But can we not say anything for a couple weeks? I’d like to have time to adjust to the idea of being a dad before your parents chase me down with knives and pitchforks.”

“Oh, come on. They’re not going to be mad at you. I hope.”

“You _hope?”_

They decided to each tell their families on their own, but not right away, as Anakin had requested (and to be honest, Padmé wasn’t exactly looking forward to the conversation with her parents either). After that, they curled up together on the sofa with a movie and a tub of ice cream. There were still a thousand things that needed to be discussed, a thousand decisions that needed to be made, but for the moment, Padmé was content to simply sit there with him and relax a little for the first time in weeks. “Thank you, Ani,” she said softly after the movie was over.

He looked at her in surprise. “What for?”

“For being so understanding about all this.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Anakin patted her stomach. “You’re going to be doing all the hard work.”

She giggled a little. “Still. Thank you.”

He shifted closer to her, gazing at her more seriously. “Padmé, you’ve been the most important person to me in the whole world—well, except for my mom—for as long as I can remember. I’m here for you, always. I’m going to be with you on this every step of the way, because I love you. Even if it wasn’t my baby, I’d still be there if you needed me.”

Padmé’s eyes filled with tears again, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with an inexplicable urge to move forward another few inches and brush her lips against his. But she resisted, and instead she said, “I love you, too, Ani.”

Anakin pulled her in for another hug. “I can’t believe we’re going to be _parents,_ ” he said wonderingly a few minutes later.

“I know.” Padmé found that even though many questions and anxieties still remained, she was beginning to get tentatively excited, now that she and Anakin had started to talk things through and she knew he was on board. No matter what happened next, she had Anakin supporting her, and that was all she’d ever really needed. “Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” she asked.

“Hmm. I’ll get back to you on that once I’ve had some time to properly formulate my prediction.” They both laughed. “But I _do_ know that this kid’s going to be amazing. Fifty percent me, fifty percent you. They’re going to be the best kid in the entire world.” He grinned. “Especially if they’re _more_ than fifty percent me.”

“Well, you certainly have a good sense of humor,” said Padmé, rolling her eyes. “I hope they inherit that. Maybe your eyes, too.”

“No, I’d rather they had _your_ eyes. Your eyes are beautiful,” Anakin said sincerely.

Padmé blushed slightly at the compliment, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “I know this is all super weird,” she said a minute later, “because we’re friends, except we, um, we slept together and are now having a baby, and those _really_ aren’t things that friends typically do with each other, but…I’m glad it’s you. I mean, obviously the ideal father of my child would be a husband or long-term boyfriend, but since that’s not happening, I’m—I’m glad it’s you.”

Anakin smiled. “Well, since I don’t have a wife or long-term girlfriend to be the mother of my child, I’m glad it’s you, too.”

It was late by the time Anakin reluctantly headed home, Padmé equally reluctant to see him go. She went to bed soon afterwards, and for practically the first time since she’d woken up almost a month ago and found Anakin lying beside her, she slept deeply all through the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Anakin came over again the next morning as soon as they were both awake, and Padmé opened the door to find him standing there with a bouquet of flowers. “What are those?” she asked, baffled.

“They’re, um, they’re for you,” he said, blushing and holding them out to her. “I just felt like—I don’t know, it just seemed like something I should do. Since you’re pregnant with my child and all.”

Also blushing a bit, Padmé took the bouquet and then threw her arms around him, taking care not to crush the flowers. “Thank you, Ani. That was so sweet. They’re beautiful.”

“It was nothing,” Anakin mumbled, still a little pink. Padmé ushered him inside and set about finding a vase for the flowers, then grabbed her coffee and went to join him on the sofa.

Anakin frowned at the mug. “What’s that?”

“Coffee. Want any? There’s still some left in the pot.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to have caffeine.”

“A little bit is fine,” Padmé told him. “As long as I don’t have too much.”

Anakin still looked dubious. “But isn’t it bad for the baby?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s just one cup. The parenting books said I could have up to one twelve-ounce cup of coffee per day.”

“What parenting books?”

“I went out and bought a bunch last week,” said Padmé; she’d gone on a shopping spree a few days before she’d told Anakin, though she’d driven to a bookstore over an hour away out of fear that someone she knew would see her buying _What To Expect When You’re Expecting_. That would’ve been tricky to explain.

She went into her bedroom and came back a few minutes later carrying an alarmingly tall stack of books, which she set down on the coffee table. The coffee table which was suddenly devoid of coffee. Padmé narrowed her eyes. “Where’s my coffee?”

“I…poured it down the sink,” Anakin said in a would-be innocent voice.

 _“What?”_ she said indignantly. “What the hell, Anakin?”

“I was worried! I don’t want anything to happen to the baby,” he said defensively.

Padmé huffed. “I told you, one cup is _fine._ God, I thought _I_ was supposed to be the worrier.” But while she was annoyed, she was also secretly thrilled that Anakin was already so invested in the baby’s wellbeing.

He just shrugged, completely unfazed. “So, I guess we should start talking about things,” he said.

Padmé nodded, took half the books off the pile, and dumped them in his lap (with perhaps a bit more force than she would’ve used had he not been a coffee thief). “Start reading these ones, and I’ll do the rest, and we can compare notes as we go.”

“Seems like an awful lot of books,” Anakin remarked.

“Well, do _you_ already know how to raise a child? Because I certainly don’t.”

“…Good point.”

“I’ve also started working on a financial spreadsheet to plan out the budget,” Padmé continued. “It’s going all right so far, but I’ll need your input before I can get much further.”

Anakin made a face. “Fine. But that sounds boring and awful.”

She sighed. “Well, unless you’d rather we just wung it and ended up broke, then—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted. “You know what you’re doing and I don’t and you’re always right and I should listen to you about everything. Moving on.”

Padmé frowned at him for a moment, unable to tell if he was being sarcastic or not, then decided that he actually seemed sincere and moved on as requested. After some discussion, they settled on telling their families within the next two or three weeks, and then Anakin looked at Padmé and said awkwardly, “I think we should also talk about us.”

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when we first tried to talk about what happened that night and clear the air, it wasn’t exactly a…productive conversation,” he pointed out, and Padmé grimaced at the memory. “And obviously just sweeping it under the rug won’t work anymore because, you know, baby.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she said, biting her lip. “So…what now? Do we just, like, talk about how we feel or something?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re the one who suggested it.”

“I was hoping _you’d_ know what to do. You always know what to do.”

Padmé shook her head in exasperation. “Talking about how we feel would probably be a good start.” She cleared her throat. “So. We…slept together.”

“Yeah.” Anakin coughed uncomfortably. “It’s—it’s awkward and embarrassing and weird, and I wouldn’t say I’m _glad_ it happened, but at the same time…I don’t necessarily _regret_ it.”

“You don’t?” Padmé asked, surprised by both the sentiment and by how pleased she was to hear it.

He rubbed the back of his neck, flushing. “I mean, it resulted in a baby, and that’s a good thing, right? Even if we didn’t mean for that to happen?”

“That’s true.”

“Besides, I, um, I enjoyed myself at the time.” Though he was still blushing, Anakin gave her a mischievous look. “And so did you, if I remember correctly.”

 _“Ani,”_ said Padmé, cheeks burning as he snickered.

“Hey, I’m just being honest. We have to get it all out there.”

“Fine. I enjoyed myself, too,” she admitted, positive that her face could fry an egg (or a whole omelet). “And you’re right. We didn’t plan to have a baby, but now we are, and…I’m happy about it. So I guess I don’t really regret that night either.”

Anakin smiled at her, and she smiled back, still embarrassed but also feeling better, now that they’d gotten all that off their chests. Or at least, better than she had after their initial conversation regarding “the thing that happened.”

“All right, now that’s all dealt with,” Padmé said in a businesslike tone. “We slept together, and we talked about it, and we’re both on the same page, and now we’re going to put it behind us and move on like the mature adults we are.”

“Definitely.” A slight pause. “We saw each other naked.”

“Okay, _I_ am going to be a mature adult about this.”

* * *

At the appointment on Thursday, the doctor said everything looked great so far and set a tentative due date in early June, and two weeks later, Padmé called Sola. She would’ve preferred to tell her in person, but she didn’t have time that evening for the two hour roundtrip between her house and her sister’s, and Padmé couldn’t wait to share the news any longer.

They chatted for a while, both discussing their respective jobs and Sola updating her on what her husband and daughters had been up to lately. It was during a break in this vein of conversation that Padmé saw her opening. “Sola, I actually have something to tell you. That’s why I called.”

“Really? What?” Sola paused for a second, then said excitedly, “Oooh, are you seeing someone new? Did Rush show up at your door again and beg you to take him back?”

“No, I think he’s finally gotten the message after three rejections,” Padmé said, chortling. “And I’m still not seeing anyone. But…I’m pregnant.”

 _“What?!”_ Sola shrieked so loudly that Padmé held the phone away from her ear slightly, wincing and grinning simultaneously. “Oh my God, Padmé! Congratulations! Oh, this is so _exciting!_ I’m finally going to be an aunt!”

“Yes, you are,” said Padmé, not bothering to keep the amusement out of her tone. Thus far, Sola’s reaction was proceeding exactly as expected.

“Hang on,” Sola said suspiciously; Padmé swore she could _hear_ her eyes narrowing. “You said you’re not seeing anyone?”

“I’m not.”

Sola gasped. “Padmé Naberrie, did you get knocked up by some random one-night stand? Mom and Dad are going to be _so_ mad.”

“That’s the thing,” Padmé said, grimacing at the reminder that she still had to tell her parents. “It _wasn’t_ some random one-night stand. Well, it _was_ a one-night stand, but it was with…it was with Anakin. He’s the father.”

“Anakin _Skywalker?”_ Sola sounded astonished.

“How many other Anakins do you know?”

“I can’t believe it!” cried Sola. “You slept with _Anakin?_ When? Why? Tell me everything!”

Padmé dutifully recited the tale (minus the more graphic details), pausing occasionally to allow her sister time to exclaim. “I can’t believe it,” Sola said again when she’d finished. “Little Ani Skywalker! This is _crazy._ I still remember when you were in kindergarten and Mom caught you two playing dress-up with all her best clothes. She was pissed.”

“Yes, I know, I slept with a boy I’ve known since we were five. Can you please not make this any weirder than it already is?”

“I should’ve known this would happen after that time when you guys were in first grade and made me officiate your fake wedding—”

“Solaaaaaa.”

“All right, all right,” she said, laughing. “So, you said he’s been really great about all of it?”

“Yeah. I was so afraid he’d be upset or something, but he wasn’t, not at all. I can’t believe how lucky I am.” Padmé smiled to herself. “He’s amazing.”

“ _Is_ he now?” asked Sola rather slyly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you slept with him and now you’re having a baby with him. All I’m saying is, it would be perfectly natural if you’ve started to develop feelings for him after all that.”

“ _Feelings?”_ Padmé said, aghast. “Sola, why would you even—Anakin’s my _friend!_ I would never—I’m not attracted to him at all! The very idea is just—just gross!”

“Denial’s not just a river in Egypt,” said Sola in a singsong voice.

“Shut up! I’m not in denial! I don’t have feelings for him!”

“Then why’d you sleep with him?”

“I told you, it was an accident!”

“How the hell do you ‘accidentally’ sleep with someone, Padmé?” Truth be told, Padmé had been rather wondering that herself ever since it had happened. “In my experience, the only thing our drunk selves do is act on preexisting feelings our sober selves are too afraid to pursue.”

“What? I—you—” Padmé spluttered. “If you’re implying I have some sort of—of deep subconscious crush on Anakin—”

Sola snickered. “Crush? What are you, twelve? This is _love,_ sister dear.”

“I’m _not_ in love with him,” grumbled Padmé. “I mean, yeah, I love him _as a friend_ but I’m not _in love_ with him.”

“Sure, Padmé,” Sola said, sounding as if she very much didn’t believe her. “Hey, who knows? Maybe _he’s_ in love with _you._ ”

Padmé scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course he isn’t.”

“Well, time will tell soon enough, I suppose. Pay attention to how he looks at you in months eight and nine when you look like a beached whale. If he says you’re beautiful and means it, that’s how you know he’s in love with you.”

“A beached whale?” Padmé echoed in horror.

“Oh, yeah,” said Sola gleefully. “Third trimester’s just _so_ much fun. Second’s pretty good, though. At least, it was for me both times. And first’s all right if your morning sickness isn’t too bad. I did okay with Ryoo, but with Pooja it was horrible. How’s yours so far?”

Padmé sighed. “It’s pretty bad.” Nausea had become a near-constant companion, and she’d been throwing up at least once a day ever since the day she’d told Anakin.

“That sucks,” Sola said sympathetically. “But it’ll pass before you know it, and you’ll feel great for a few months after that. And then you’ll feel bad again, and then you’ll have to go through labor, and then you’ll still feel pretty bad for a while after the baby’s born, but _eventually_ you’ll feel normal again. Mostly.”

“Thanks. That’s very encouraging.”

Sola talked her ear off about The Pregnancy Experience for another half hour, and Padmé grabbed a pen and paper and started taking careful notes. She was going to need all the help she could get.

“Have you told Mom and Dad yet?” asked Sola a while later.

Padmé sighed. “No, you’re the first one we’ve told.”

“Really? I’m flattered. When are you going to tell them?”

“I was thinking of maybe having dinner or something this weekend. Are you around on Saturday?”

“Let me check.” Padmé waited a few minutes until Sola spoke again. “Darred’s away on a business trip and the girls both have sleepovers Saturday night, but I’m free. I was kind of planning to spend my one night alone with a movie and a few glasses of wine, but saving my little sister from getting murdered by our parents seems like a more worthy cause.”

“They’re not going to murder me.” Padmé swallowed nervously. “Are they?”

“I’m only kidding,” Sola assured her with a laugh. “Although, here you are, pregnant and unwed with no prospects—”

“Oh, come on, Mom and Dad aren’t _that_ old-fashioned. But they’ll definitely be at least a little mad, don’t you think? That’s why I was hoping you could be there to be on my side.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll have your back. You’re not planning to bring Anakin, are you?”

“Definitely not,” Padmé said, shuddering. “That would be a recipe for disaster. I’m telling them on my own, and he’s telling his mom on his own, and then maybe we can start having some family reunions once everyone’s digested the news.”

“Good call,” said Sola. “But I have to say, out of all the guys who could’ve gotten you pregnant, Anakin’s probably one of the more preferable choices as far as Mom and Dad are concerned. According to them, he’s always been ‘such a nice boy.’”

Padmé laughed at Sola’s spot-on impression of their mother. “They’re probably going to revoke his ‘nice boy’ status when they find out about this, though.”

The sisters tentatively planned for dinner Saturday night, and Padmé subsequently called their parents to see if Saturday worked for them (it did). Now there was nothing left to do but wait.

Padmé spent Saturday afternoon at Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka’s apartment. She was desperate to tell the other two about her pregnancy—she could tell Anakin was, too—but they’d both sworn they wouldn’t say anything to anyone until all immediate family members had been informed. And if Padmé was being honest, it was kind of fun to share a secret with Anakin again, like they were fourth graders passing notes when the teacher’s back was turned. Except for the fact that _we’re having a baby together_ was a much bigger secret than _I didn’t finish the math homework_ (Anakin’s words, of course; Padmé had never missed a deadline).

Around four o’clock, Padmé reluctantly stood up and announced, “I should get going. I have to be at my parents’ for dinner at five-thirty.”

“Have fun,” the other three chorused. Anakin shot her an encouraging smile when Obi-Wan and Ahsoka weren’t looking.

But that did nothing to assuage the nerves mounting in Padmé’s stomach as she returned to her apartment, changed her outfit, and drove over to her parents’ house. It was about thirty minutes away, and by the time she arrived, Padmé was feeling more than a little nauseous (unless that was just morning sickness again).

Sola was already there, and neither Ruwee nor Jobal seemed to notice when their daughters greeted each other a little more enthusiastically and hugged each other a little tighter than normal. “Congratulations again,” Sola whispered in her ear as they embraced.

“Thanks,” Padmé murmured, smiling. She set her purse down and followed the rest of the family to sit in the living room while dinner finished cooking.

“So, Padmé, how have you been?” asked Ruwee. “We haven’t heard much from you lately.”

“Sorry, work’s been pretty hectic,” she lied. “But aside from that, I’m doing great. What’s new with you and Mom?”

Padmé barely even listened to the conversation, so preoccupied was she with wondering when she should break the news. Eventually she decided to wait until after they’d eaten. If a scene was going to be made, she wanted to get in a good meal first.

Except when they finally sat down at the table, Padmé got one whiff of her mother’s delicious lasagna and was nearly sick on the spot. “Pass me your plate, honey,” said Jobal, holding out her hand.

“Actually, I’m not that hungry,” Padmé mumbled. “I’ll just have some salad.”

Sola gave her a knowing look, and their parents gave her a confused one. “But lasagna’s your favorite,” Jobal protested.

“I know, it’s just, I…had lunch really late. I might take some leftovers home for tomorrow, if that’s okay,” Padmé added quickly, seeing her mother’s crestfallen look.

Jobal brightened at that, and dinner resumed in a pleasant manner. They made it almost all the way through the meal before Jobal fixed an interested eye on Padmé and said, “So what’s new with you outside of work, Padmé?”

Padmé shrugged, trying not to look nervous. How did she know? Sometimes she swore her mother had a sixth sense. “Not much. Same old, same old.”

“Any new boyfriends on the horizon? It’s really time you began seriously thinking about settling down and starting a family, you know. Time’s ticking.”

Sola choked on her drink as Padmé gave Jobal an alarmed look. “Um, no. No boyfriends,” she stammered. “And seriously, Mom, I’m only twenty-seven. I have plenty of time.” _And am already pregnant anyway._

“I still don’t understand why you ended things with Rush,” said Ruwee with a sigh. “He was perfect for you.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Padmé said a bit more sharply than she meant to.

“What do you mean? He most certainly _was,_ ” said Jobal, siding with her husband. “Intelligent, ambitious, well-spoken. And quite handsome, too—”

Padmé couldn’t take any more of this. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

A shocked silence fell over the table. Both her parents gaped at her while Sola looked between the other three, her expression a mixture of apprehension and amusement. Ruwee recovered first. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m pregnant,” Padmé repeated, a little less emphatically this time, seeing as her flash of boldness was fading as rapidly as it had appeared.

“But—but—” Jobal looked baffled. “But you just told us you don’t have a boyfriend. Who—?”

“Anakin.”

 _“Anakin?_ As in Anakin Skywalker, your best friend since you were five?” demanded Ruwee.

“How many other Anakins do you know?” Padmé said impatiently, making Sola snort at the similarity to their phone conversation.

“I don’t understand,” Jobal said, shaking her head. “Anakin? I thought you were only friends.”

“We are.”

“Then how—?”

“We—we slept together once by accident,” Padmé admitted, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Telling her sister the specific circumstances of her pregnancy was one thing. Telling her _parents_ was quite another.

“By _accident?”_ said Jobal in disbelief.

Padmé sighed. “It was—we were drunk, all right? I was drunk, and I had a one-night stand with Anakin, and now I’m pregnant. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Padmé Naberrie,” Ruwee began, frowning. “Have we taught you _nothing?_ I thought you were smarter than this, and more responsible. I thought you knew better.” He didn’t sound angry. He sounded _disappointed,_ which was infinitely worse. Padmé felt tears sting her eyes.

“Dad, come on,” interrupted Sola. “Give her a break, okay? These things happen.”

“No, they don’t. Pregnancy doesn’t just _happen.”_ Jobal looked just as disappointed as Ruwee. “Padmé, how could you be so careless? Are you really ready for a baby right now?” she said, seemingly forgetting that she’d been urging Padmé to start a family not five minutes earlier.

Padmé had asked herself the same exact questions a million times, but they hurt so much more coming from her mother’s mouth. “I messed up, okay? I know that, believe me,” she said, voice trembling. “But I—I’m having a _baby,_ and I just want—is it too much to ask my own _parents_ to be happy for me?” And to her utter mortification, she started to cry. Stupid hormones.

Both her parents’ expressions immediately softened. “Oh, _honey,”_ said Jobal, and she and Ruwee stood and walked over to wrap their arms around Padmé.

“I’m sorry, Padmé,” Ruwee said softly. “This is just…well, it’s a little, ah, unconventional, so it took us by surprise. Mom and I just always pictured you getting married, settling down, and _then_ having kids, like Sola did.”

“That’s what I pictured too,” Padmé said in a small voice. “But that’s not what’s happening. And I’m scared, but I’m still _happy._ I _want_ this baby. I don’t know if I’m ready to be a mom, but I—I _want_ to be one.”

Jobal placed a gentle kiss on her temple. “Well, as long as you’re happy about the baby, then we’re happy, too. We were too quick to judge the situation. We should’ve asked how _you_ felt first.”

“You’re our daughter, and we love you no matter what, and we’re going to love our—our grandchild no matter what, too,” said Ruwee, voice breaking a little.

Padmé was surprised; she’d never seen her parents back down from an argument so quickly, especially an argument over something so big. Perhaps they were acting on some supportive parental instinct that she’d develop someday. “Thanks,” she said, sniffling.

“I’m getting in on this,” she heard Sola say, and then her sister joined in the Naberrie group hug, making all of them laugh.

“Wait a second,” said Ruwee after a few minutes. “Sola, you don’t seem very surprised about any of this.”

“Well, that would probably be because Padmé called me a few days ago and told me everything.”

Jobal huffed. “I suppose Dad and I are the last ones to know?”

“No, you’re the _first_ to know, except Sola,” Padmé assured her. “And Anakin, obviously.”

“Ah.” Ruwee’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So he knows, does he? How did he take it?”

“Very well. I mean, he _is_ my best friend, not some random guy I slept with.”

“And he’s not planning on running off and leaving you to deal with it all on your own?” asked Jobal.

“Of course not,” Padmé said indignantly, conveniently forgetting the fact that she’d had the same fear at first. “Mom, you’ve known Anakin for twenty years. You _know_ he wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, just because he was willing to marry you in first grade doesn’t automatically mean he’d be willing to help you out with a baby twenty years later.”

“Ha!” said Sola triumphantly. “Mom remembers that too!”

For the rest of the evening, Padmé filled her parents in on the remaining details, and soon both Jobal and Ruwee were giving her parenting advice, only stopping when Padmé told them she’d really rather not yet worry about what age her still-unborn child should start preschool. When she finally left, her parents urged her to bring Anakin with her next time, insisting that they hadn’t seen him in far too long anyway, and it was high time they got a chance to considering the fact that he was now not only their daughter’s best friend, but also the father of their third grandchild. Padmé promised she would, though privately she believed it might take some convincing, seeing as Anakin was probably still afraid they were going to kill him.

She called him as soon as she got home. “How did it go?” he asked at once.

“They were kind of upset at first, but they came around surprisingly fast,” Padmé replied, and she proceeded to recount the entire evening.

“So they don’t hate either of us?” said Anakin hopefully after she’d finished.

She laughed. “Nope. In fact, they want you to come over for dinner sometime soon.”

“Well, okay,” he said skeptically. “But only if you’re _sure_ they don’t hate me.”

“You’re telling your mom tomorrow, right?” said Padmé, still chuckling.

“Yeah. I _think_ it’ll go pretty well. I mean, she’s always talking about how much she wants grandkids, so I feel like she won’t really mind the exact circumstances, especially since _she_ didn’t have _me_ under the best circumstances, either. Also, she loves you, so she’ll probably be thrilled you’re the mom.”

“I hope so. Otherwise future Thanksgivings might be pretty awkward.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people have been asking about getting some Anakin POV and as much as I do love writing from his perspective, it's probably not going to happen in this fic just because we're very submerged in Padmé's head specifically as opposed to it being a more omniscient narration style, so I feel like it would be kind of jarring to throw Anakin's POV in there. Plus, as we get to later chapters, it's gotta be intentionally unclear as to what he's thinking and feeling about things ;) Anyway I hope you liked this chapter!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the feedback so far!! Hope you like this chapter :)

To Padmé and Anakin’s relief, Shmi reacted just as well as Anakin had predicted, if not even better (according to him, she’d burst into tears and given him a suffocating three-minute-long hug). But in more unfortunate news, Padmé’s morning sickness still wasn’t easing up; in fact, she swore it was getting worse. “I think my coworkers are starting to notice,” she complained to Anakin over the phone a week or so after they’d told their parents. “I haven’t actually thrown up in front of them yet, thank God, but there was a _very_ close call after lunch today. The gossip mill’s probably going to start churning any day now. There’s only so many times I can pass it off as food poisoning.”

Anakin chuckled, though not unkindly. “Sounds awful. Hey, speaking of food, do you want to have lunch at my place this weekend so we can tell Obi-Wan and Ahsoka?” They’d decided that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, as their closest friends, were the only people outside their families whom they were going to tell until Padmé was farther along in her pregnancy.

“Sure,” she replied. “But could we do it at my apartment instead? I’d feel really bad if I ended up getting sick all over your carpet.”

Anakin laughed again. “How thoughtful of you. That should be fine, I’ll check with them when they get home. Oh, and I’ve made my prediction for the gender, by the way.”

“Really? What is it?” Padmé said curiously.

“Girl.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

“Why?”

“Because _I_ think it’s a boy.”

“You’re definitely wrong. I’m sure it’s a girl,” Anakin said, sounding very confident indeed.

Padmé snorted. “No, _you’re_ wrong. It’s one hundred percent a boy.”

“Says who?”

“Says my mother’s intuition.”

“Well, my father’s intuition says it’s a girl.”

“Father’s intuition? That’s not a thing.”

“And mother’s intuition is?”

“Of course. I’m the one with the baby inside me. If anyone should be able to predict the gender correctly, shouldn’t it be me?”

“It’s a girl,” Anakin repeated stubbornly. “And she’ll look just like you. I know it.”

For some reason, the fact that Anakin was imagining their baby as looking like Padmé made her heart do a small backflip, and she admitted softly, “I’ve been picturing a boy who looks like _you.”_

There was a brief silence on the other end, and then Anakin said, sounding far less argumentative, “Maybe we’re both wrong. Maybe it’ll be a girl who looks like me or a boy who looks like you.”

“Maybe. But no matter who they look like, it’s going to be a boy,” Padmé couldn’t resist adding.

“I can’t wait to say ‘I told you so’ when we find out it’s a girl.”

“Neither can I when we find out it’s a boy.”

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were available for lunch at Padmé’s that weekend, and they arrived with Anakin at one o’clock Sunday afternoon; they’d generously brought a bag of takeout with them so Padmé wouldn’t have to cook anything. “I’m _starving,”_ said Ahsoka, dropping the bag on the table and pulling out her cheeseburger without further ado.

Padmé was far from starving—in fact, the thought of eating anything made her stomach turn—but she’d skipped breakfast and knew she’d only feel worse if she didn’t have some food soon. She stared glumly at the sandwich she’d ordered, trying to force herself to take a bite, as Anakin and Obi-Wan joined Ahsoka in digging in.

Obi-Wan noticed her hesitation. “Did we get you the wrong sandwich?”

“No, this is perfect. I’m just not very hungry.” Finally Padmé picked the sandwich up and raised it to her mouth, doing her best not to breathe in the smell, then took a small nibble out of it. That didn’t seem to do any harm, so she took another bite, then a third. Conversation was flowing all around her, but Padmé was too focused on the herculean effort of eating her sandwich to make any contributions.

She’d finished one half and was just about to start the second when, without warning, she felt nausea rapidly rising. “Excuse me,” Padmé squeaked, and she jumped up from the table and sprinted towards the bathroom as fast as her legs could carry her, making it just in time to heave the meager contents of her stomach into the toilet.

Only a few seconds later, she heard someone come in, and then Anakin was kneeling beside her, pulling her hair out of the way with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. “I guess our son doesn’t like mayonnaise,” Padmé said through her toothbrush after her queasy spell had passed.

“Yeah, our _daughter_ must be more of a ketchup person.” She glanced at Anakin in the mirror over the sink and saw that he was grinning, and she rolled her eyes. But a moment later his expression softened, and he said, “I’m really sorry for doing this to you.”

Padmé spat into the sink and rinsed out her mouth. “You better be. This is _miserable._ It’s only supposed to last a few more weeks, but online I’ve seen some people say they spent the _entire pregnancy_ feeling sick all the time. I can’t take nine months of this!”

“I’m sure it’ll clear up soon,” Anakin said soothingly. “Besides, won’t it be worth it to end up with a baby when it’s all over?”

“That’s such a man thing to say,” she grumbled. “If you say that to me again while I’m in labor, I can’t be held responsible for any injuries I might give you.”

They returned to the other room to find Obi-Wan and Ahsoka looking quite concerned. “Padmé, are you all right?” asked Obi-Wan. “We can go home if you’re not feeling well.”

Padmé and Anakin exchanged a glance and a shrug. No time like the present. “No, I’m fine,” Padmé said. “Actually—”

“She’s pregnant!” Anakin burst out.

“Dammit, Anakin, _I_ wanted to say it!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. You _know_ I’ve been dying to tell them.”

A split second later, Padmé was almost knocked to the ground as Ahsoka barreled into her. “Wow, congratulations, Padmé! That’s amazing!”

Padmé smiled and hugged her back. “Thanks.”

Ahsoka drew back and looked between her and Anakin, clearly putting two and two together. “Wait, so, Skyguy, you—?”

“Yeah,” Anakin said, beaming. Ahsoka made a noise that could only be described as a squeal and promptly threw her arms around him, as well.

Obi-Wan, meanwhile, had followed Ahsoka up from the table and was now hovering behind her, looking absolutely bewildered. “Congratulations,” he said uncertainly. “But—well—how? Not to be tactless, but…who’s the father?”

“I am,” Anakin informed him, and he, Padmé, and Ahsoka all burst out laughing as Obi-Wan’s expression went from confused to flabbergasted.

“ _You_ are?” Obi-Wan repeated, gaping at them. “But—since when are you two—?”

“We’re not,” said Padmé hastily, flushing a little. “It just kind of…happened.”

She and Anakin told him everything. Ahsoka, who apparently hadn’t spilled the beans to Obi-Wan after all, chimed in from time to time to smugly say that Padmé had confided in her weeks ago. “So I guess no one bothered to tell _me_ any of this,” Obi-Wan said crossly after he’d been caught up. “Some friends you all are.”

“I was sworn to secrecy,” said Ahsoka innocently. “And these two were too embarrassed to say anything and are also very bad at talking about stuff. You should’ve seen how flustered Padmé was when I forced it out of her.”

Needless to say, the baby was the only topic of conversation for the remainder of the meal (though Padmé didn’t risk another bite). Ahsoka sided with Anakin in thinking that it was a girl, while Obi-Wan agreed with Padmé that it was a boy. Anakin and Ahsoka volunteered to clean up everyone’s plates, and after they’d gone into the kitchen Obi-Wan turned to Padmé and said, “How do you feel about all this? I mean, it’s pretty…unexpected.”

“No kidding,” said Padmé, chuckling. “When I first found out, I was…well, I was terrified. It was just, for twenty-two years, Anakin and I knew exactly where we stood with each other. Things were always so simple between us, and now suddenly they’ve gotten really complicated. So when I found out I was pregnant, I was scared it would be the end of our friendship, except it hasn’t been at all. Our relationship’s definitely different than it used to be, because it would be impossible for it not to change under the circumstances, but we’re still just as close as we ever were.”

“That’s great. I’m glad you two are working all this out together. I’d hate to see you fight,” said Obi-Wan with a smile, which Padmé returned. She’d hate that, too. “So, you’re going to be a mom. Are you excited? Nervous?”

“Both,” she admitted. “And a million other things, too. But the things I was most worried about were telling Anakin and telling our parents, so now that that’s all over with and everything turned out well, I’m mostly just excited. But talk to me again close to my due date, and I’ll probably have gone back to being terrified.”

* * *

Throughout the next few weeks, Padmé took to calling Sola at least once a day with a new question. Fortunately, her sister was very patient. “Am I supposed to be feeling this sick all the time?” she asked during week nine. “It’s _so bad,_ Sola. I even went to the doctor to see if it was hyperemesis gravidarum, but they said it wasn’t.”

“Good, because you’d probably have to get treated at the hospital if it was,” Sola pointed out. “Sometimes morning sickness is just really bad for no apparent reason, like it was for me with Pooja. But it ended around week twelve or thirteen for me, so hopefully you’ve only got another month to go and then you’ll feel better.”

“An entire month. Fantastic.”

During week ten, Padmé noticed in surprise that some of her pants didn’t fit anymore. “Am I supposed to be showing already?” she demanded of Sola a few days later. “It seems pretty early.”

“I don’t know, Padmé,” Sola sighed. “It’s different for everyone. Besides, it might just be bloating.”

“That’s what I thought, too, but I looked in the mirror this morning and there’s definitely an actual bump there. I mean, you can barely even see it, but it _is_ there.”

“Huh. Well, I guess it makes sense that you’d show early. You’re so tiny, the baby probably doesn’t have anywhere to go but outwards.”

Padmé huffed. “I was counting on having another few months before I’d have to start buying maternity clothes.”

“I might still have some you can borrow.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Anything you have from when you were pregnant is probably long out of style by now.”

Padmé’s morning sickness did indeed stop around the twelfth week, and luckily for Sola, much of her pregnancy-induced anxiety went away too, since she was finally feeling better. Her first ultrasound was also that week, and she was starting to get nervous as they pulled up to the hospital. “What if they find out that something’s wrong?” she asked Anakin in the waiting room.

“They won’t,” he said reassuringly. “Nothing will be wrong.”

“You don’t know that. I was reading on Web MD this morning that—”

“Padmé, you _know_ looking at Web MD just stresses you out for no reason.”

“But what if—”

Anakin gently rested his hand on her shoulder. “No what-ifs. We’re going to go in there, and they’re going to tell us that our baby’s doing great, and everything’s going to be fine. Okay?”

Padmé felt herself relax a little. “Okay.”

“It's too soon for them to tell us the gender, right?” Anakin said next, as if determined to distract her from worrying.

“Yeah, they won't be able to find that out for a while.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I kind of want it to be a surprise anyway.”

“I don't,” Padmé replied. “There's no way I'm waiting till they're born to find out. I want to be prepared.”

“Prepared?” said Anakin, grinning. “A baby’s a baby. Why would you need to prepare any differently depending on the gender?”

“I just don't like surprises,” she said defensively. “The fact I'm even having a baby at all is enough of a surprise for me, thank you very much.”

Little did she know that they were about to receive another big surprise.

Padmé jumped a little as the doctor started spreading gel all over her belly—it was startlingly cold. The doctor placed the transducer probe on her and began moving it around, and a moment later a tiny _thump-thump-thump_ filled the room.

Padmé gasped. “Is that—is that the heartbeat?”

“It is,” the doctor confirmed with a smile.

Padmé beamed up at Anakin, whose eyes were wide and a little damp as he listened to their baby’s heartbeat for the first time, but then she frowned when she noticed something. “It seems awfully fast,” she said. “I mean, I know fetal heart rates are supposed to be fast, but still, this seems… _really_ fast.”

“Let’s see here.” The doctor was consulting the computer screen, and after a few more minutes she said knowingly, “Ah, that explains everything.”

“What?” Padmé said, confused. She looked at Anakin, who just shrugged.

“You said your morning sickness has been pretty intense so far?”

“Yes. It just stopped, though.”

“And your hormone levels are quite high,” said the doctor, checking Padmé’s file.

“What does that mean? Is it bad? Is something wrong?” asked Padmé anxiously, heart pounding almost as rapidly as the baby’s. Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed Anakin’s hand. He looked a little startled, but didn't protest or take his hand away. Web MD was right, she _knew_ her worries hadn’t been unfounded, and Anakin had dismissed them so easily—

“No, nothing’s wrong at all,” the doctor hastened to assure her, and Padmé and Anakin both sighed in relief. “There's a simple explanation for all of this. You’re right, the heartbeat _does_ sound unusually fast. And that’s because we’re not hearing one single fast heartbeat. We’re hearing two separate ones at the same time, both of which are a normal, healthy rate.”

The doctor smiled at Padmé and Anakin, who gaped back at her. Padmé listened harder, and she realized that while they had blended together into one before, now that she was focusing, she _could_ make out two separate heartbeats. “Two—two heartbeats?” Anakin said faintly. “You mean...she's having _twins?”_

“She certainly is,” replied the doctor. “Congratulations!”

“Twins?” Padmé shook her head in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

The doctor chuckled. “I'm not, I promise. See for yourself.”

She angled the screen towards them, and Padmé gasped as she saw two tiny but distinct blobs. “Are those—?”

“Yes, those are the babies.”

Two blobs. Two babies. Padmé was suddenly overcome with the jumbled mix of shock, elation, and panic that seemed determined to accompany every minute of this pregnancy. “Oh my God,” she said, feeling short of breath. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my—”

“Hey, hey. Breathe. Deep breaths,” Anakin instructed in a soothing voice, squeezing her hand; Padmé hadn’t even realized he was still holding it. “We can handle this. This is fine. This is _amazing._ Padmé, we’re—we’re having _two babies.”_

He sounded a little choked up, and upon looking back over at him Padmé saw that a few tears had spilled over onto his cheeks, but the smile on his face was one of the brightest she had ever seen. She obligingly took deep breaths in and out, shock levels staying about the same, but elation levels increasing and panic levels decreasing. Slightly. “Okay. Yes. We can do this,” she said finally. “We’ll just have to make a lot of adjustments to every single plan, list, and spreadsheet we have so far.” She bit her lip, panic welling back up. “We didn’t even _think_ to account for two babies! What are we going to do?”

“Well, a couple months ago we hadn’t even been accounting for one baby, and despite that we’ve been doing all right so far,” Anakin reminded her. “We’ll have to tweak some things, but we’ll manage. We still have over six months to figure stuff out before they arrive. Everything will be _fine,_ I promise.”

His words reassured Padmé, and at last she gave him a tearful smile. “Twins, Ani. _Twins.”_

In lieu of responding, Anakin pulled her in for a hug as best he could without disrupting the ultrasound, both of them sniffling. “And after I was just saying I hate surprises,” Padmé said eventually, making him and the doctor both laugh.

Padmé and Anakin were still in a daze as they headed back to the parking lot a while later and got in Anakin’s car. “I can't believe it's _twins_ ,” he said yet again, sticking the keys in the ignition but not turning the car on yet.

“I know.” Padmé sighed. “Everything’s going to be twice as hard, twice as expensive—”                           

“And twice as _fun_. It’s like a buy one get one free deal.”

Padmé couldn’t help but laugh; overwhelmed as she was, Anakin’s excitement was infectious, not to mention that the idea of having not one but _two_ babies, while fairly terrifying, was also making her heart swell with joy. “Someday I’m going to tell them you said that,” she said. “I’m sure they’ll really appreciate being thought of as a shopping bargain.”

Anakin laughed, too. “I guess we’ll have to revise our predictions,” he said a moment later. “About the gender. Genders.”

“I’m still sure one of them is a boy,” Padmé replied. “But I can’t decide if it’s two boys or a boy and a girl.”

“Well, if you're sure it's a boy and I'm sure it's a girl, it seems logical that it's one of each,” Anakin reasoned.

She nodded in agreement. “It would be more fun if we had different guesses, though.”

“Maybe, but I'd rather not have to deal with you being mad at me when it turns out I'm right. Because I _am_ right. It's definitely a boy and a girl.”

Padmé laughed and rested a hand on the barely-there baby bump. It was so hard to believe that there were currently _two_ tiny lives growing inside her. She pulled the ultrasound pictures out of her purse with her other hand and gazed at the two blobs. Her children, she thought, eyes watering again.

Anakin reached out and hesitated for a second, then laid his hand beside hers. Their eyes met, and Padmé suddenly felt breathless. How had she never noticed how blue his eyes were? How had she never noticed the way they crinkled when he smiled? How had she never noticed—?

Padmé cleared her throat and glanced away, realizing that her cheeks felt a little warm. “I have to get back to work.”

“Oh, right. So do I.” Anakin’s hand vanished, and a moment later he was starting the engine.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there's any mistakes in this chapter, I did the final edits right after spending 4+ hours writing a paper so my brain's a little fried lmao

Padmé and Anakin were quick to share the twin news with their families, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka, and everyone was astonished and thrilled. “ _Two_ mini Anakin-and-Padmés!” Ahsoka said delightedly.

“I don’t envy you having to deliver two at once,” Sola said, grinning, and Padmé groaned in dread at the thought.

The second trimester began soon after the ultrasound, and as Sola had predicted, Padmé was in much better spirits. Her nausea and fatigue were gone, and her baby bump started becoming visible enough to be exciting (and visible enough that she finally had to announce her pregnancy to her largely unsurprised coworkers), but not yet so big that she was uncomfortable. Everyone kept telling her that she had “the pregnancy glow,” and Padmé always scoffed at that, but couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across her face whenever she looked at herself in the mirror and rested her hands on her belly. And on top of all that, she’d gotten over the initial shock of having twins and was now just as overjoyed at the prospect as Anakin was.

But now that she was feeling better, her attention turned to more serious matters. Namely, what were she and Anakin going to do once the babies were born? How were they going to work out a custody agreement? Padmé hated the idea of not being able to spend every single second with the twins, but she knew Anakin would hate it just as much, and they couldn’t _both_ be with them all the time, seeing as they lived in different places. She was just thankful both their apartments were in the same city; it would’ve been a nightmare if they’d lived really far apart.

True to her nature, Padmé did extensive research, and in the beginning of the fifth month, she marched over to Anakin’s apartment and dropped a tall stack of papers on the table in front of him. He looked up at her in surprise. “What’s all this?”

“My research on custody arrangements,” she said, settling into the chair beside him.

“Oh,” said Anakin, suddenly looking a little tense. “Do we have to do that now? Can’t it wait until after they’re born?”

“I’m not exactly eager to have this conversation, either, but I think it would be best if we could at least come to some sort of informal agreement beforehand. Once they’re born, we’re going to be way too busy to have time for this, and the longer we put it off, the more problems it’ll cause,” Padmé pointed out.

Anakin sighed. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now. Isn’t that why you’re here with all this research?”

“Well, I was kind of thinking we could talk a little bit about it just to see where we’re at, but then do the real thing later with a mediator.”

Anakin stared at her. “A _mediator?_ Are you anticipating a fight or something?”

“Of course not,” Padmé said quickly. “It’s just that a lot of the sites I visited recommended having a neutral third party present to help regulate the discussion.”

“Neutral third party, huh?” Anakin turned his head and called, “Hey, Obi-Wan, come here for a second.”

Padmé frowned at him. “Obi-Wan is _not_ a neutral third party.”

“Are you kidding? Have you met him? He’s the most neutral person on the planet.”

“It’s supposed to be someone who doesn’t know either of us.”

Obi-Wan stepped into the living room. “What do you want, Anakin?” he asked in a long-suffering tone.

“Will you mediate our discussion about custody agreements?”

Obi-Wan stared at Anakin incredulously. “Absolutely not,” he informed him, and promptly spun around and returned to his room.

“Dammit,” Anakin muttered. He looked back at Padmé. “Can’t we just talk about this calmly and rationally like adults? I don’t want to go air out all our dirty laundry in front of a stranger.”

“What dirty laundry? We’re best friends, not a couple going through a messy divorce,” Padmé reminded him. “We don’t have any dirty laundry.”

“ _I_ know that. _You’re_ the one who suggested a mediator.”

“And _you’re_ the one who suggested talking about this calmly and rationally like adults,” she retorted. “I’m perfectly willing to do that, and if we can agree on a solution without needing a mediator, that would be great. I’m just saying, if it spirals into an argument, we might have to find a third party to intervene. But hopefully it _won’t_ spiral into an argument.”

A short pause. “All right,” said Anakin. “Let’s talk.”

“Okay.” Padmé suddenly felt nervous. “First off is deciding if we want joint custody or if we want one of us to have sole custody and the other only has visitation rights.”

“Joint,” Anakin said immediately. He looked uncertainly at her. “Right?”

“Yes, that’s what I was thinking, too,” she replied, and Anakin looked relieved. “So I guess next we try to come up with some kind of schedule about who the twins are with when. Everything I read recommended having one primary home for at least the first year instead of switching them back and forth all the time, since disruptions in infants’ daily routines can stress them out.” She flipped through a few pages, pulled one out of the pile, and handed it to him.

Anakin skimmed the text, frowning slightly. “Okay…so how do we decide whose house should be the primary one?”

“I figured mine would make the most sense,” said Padmé.

“Did you?” he said, eyes narrowing. “So you think they should live _only_ with you for the entire first _year?”_

She furrowed her brow. “Well, yeah. I’m their mother.”

“And I’m their father. What’s your point?”

“They’ll need to be with me for nursing and stuff; _you_ can’t do any of that.”

“So, basically, you’re the important parent and I’m disposable,” Anakin snapped.

“That’s not what I meant at all,” Padmé said, trying to remain calm since Anakin apparently wasn’t going to. “Think about it logically. Biological reasons aside, I think it would be best for them to live with me for the first year. My apartment has a spare bedroom and yours doesn’t. There isn’t anywhere in this apartment where you’d be able to fit even one crib, let alone two. There’s no space for them here, and you can’t afford a bigger place.”

“I think I’ll decide what I can and can’t afford,” Anakin said crossly.

“Plus, you have roommates and I don’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka to have crying babies waking them up at all hours of the night.” Padmé tried to place a soothing hand on his arm, but he jerked it out of her reach. She sighed. “I’m sorry, Ani, but it just makes sense to have them live with me at first. My current financial and living situations are better equipped for two babies than yours are, and you know it.”

Anakin glared at her. “Suppose I agree to this. How many _hours_ per week will I be allowed to _visit_ my children? Unless you plan on counting in minutes?”

Padmé rubbed her temples, heaving another sigh. “Anakin, please. Of course I’m not going to limit your time with them. They’re just as much your children as they are mine.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t feel like it.”

 _“There’s no room for them in your apartment,”_ Padmé said loudly. “You want them to live with you? Find somewhere where they’ll actually be able to. Until then, they will be living with me. I’ll give you your own key, and you can come over to see them as much as you want, and I’ll bring them here to see you as often as I can, but their primary home will be my apartment.”

Anakin crossed his arms and glowered for several minutes. “Fine,” he said at last, his tone indicating that it wasn’t actually fine at all.

“Thank you,” said Padmé exasperatedly. “Now, are you ready to be reasonable, or should we continue this another time?”

He snorted and didn’t answer.

“I guess I’ll take that as a yes,” she muttered. “When they’re a little older and you live somewhere that has room for them, they can stay with each of us for a few days every week, but I don’t think we need to get into that just yet. But we should talk about holidays. I was thinking the first year, they could do Thanksgiving with your family and Christmas with mine, and the year after we can switch, and it’ll alternate like that.”

“But I want to be there for their first Christmas,” Anakin objected, still scowling.

“You can be,” Padmé promised. “It’s not like I’m going to bar you from my house. We can do holidays all together for a while, but we need a set plan in place for later down the road.”

“Why?”

“Well, say either of us gets married. That would make it unrealistic for you and me to keep doing holidays together, seeing as our spouses would probably be less than thrilled with the idea. In that scenario, we’d need a plan dictating which one of us the twins would be spending each holiday with.”

Anakin stared at her for a second with a bit of a funny look on his face, then looked away and was quiet for a while. “I guess that makes sense,” he conceded grudgingly. “Are we done here?”

“I–I guess so,” Padmé said, startled by the abrupt end to the discussion. “It’s not perfect yet, but at least we have a general plan for what’s going to happen.”

“Cool. See you later.” He stood and stalked away, shutting his bedroom door behind him; Padmé was almost surprised he didn’t slam it.

She sighed heavily yet again. The conversation hadn’t gone nearly as smoothly as she’d hoped it would. Then again, she really should’ve predicted that Anakin would react badly to the idea of the twins not living with him at all when they were babies. But she just didn’t see any other way around it, other than inviting him to move into her apartment, which was obviously absurd.

A few minutes later, Obi-Wan came back out into the living room to find Padmé sitting with her head in her hands. “I take it things didn’t go very well?”

“No, they didn’t,” she said glumly, lifting her head to look at him as he sat down next to her. “I told him the twins would be living with me for the foreseeable future once they’re born, since they need a stable routine and there’s literally no way they could live _here_ unless you decided to, like, take out the table and replace it with two cribs.”

“That _would_ make eating rather difficult,” Obi-Wan agreed with a small chuckle. “Anakin didn’t like that, I’m guessing.”

“Nope,” said Padmé. “And I suppose I can’t really blame him. I know it’s not fair, but it’s the only plan that makes sense.”

Obi-Wan looked thoughtful. “You know, this whole time, Anakin hasn’t been able to stop talking about how excited he is. He wants to be there when the twins are born, and when they take their first steps, and when they say their first words. He wants to be there every morning when they wake up and every night when they go to sleep. And I’d guess he’s only just now starting to realize that that might not be possible. He’s probably afraid of getting pushed out of their lives little by little until he’s barely in them at all.”

Padmé frowned at him. “That’s not going to happen. I don’t _want_ that to happen. I want him to be in their lives just as much as I am.”

“Don’t tell _me_ that,” Obi-Wan replied. “Tell _him.”_

She stared down at her hands for a minute or two, then stood up and approached Anakin’s room. She knocked lightly on the door. “Anakin, it’s me. Can I come in?”

Silence. “All right,” he said eventually.

Padmé pushed open the door and stepped inside. Anakin was flopped back on the bed, and she hesitantly sank down on the end of it. “I’m sorry,” she said simply. “I know this custody arrangement isn’t ideal, and I know you’re upset about it. Believe me, I really do wish the twins could live with you, too, but it’s just not feasible right now. Everything we talked about out there was just coming from me trying to do what was best for them. That’s all it was. I promise you, I’m not trying to come up with sneaky ways to keep them to myself or push you out of their lives. That’s the opposite of what I want. I want us to share parenting duties equally, because they’re not _my_ children, they’re _ours._ ”

Anakin slowly sat up and scooched down the bed until he was sitting beside her. “I don’t want to be the backup parent,” he said quietly. “I don’t want them to—to not _know_ me.”

Once again, Padmé reached out to rest her hand on his arm, and this time he let her. “I don’t want that, either. They _will_ know you. You’re their dad. No one but you will ever fill that role. You’re _not_ the backup parent, Ani. You and I are a team. I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you.”

That appeared to soothe Anakin slightly, but only slightly, and a few moments later Padmé gently bumped him with her shoulder, silently asking him to tell her what else was bothering him. “It’s just, all this custody talk…” he began. “Saying one of us will have the twins during certain times, and the other will have them during other times, it makes me feel like you and I are just going to be…separate. Have separate lives. I’ve shared my life with you since I was five years old, Padmé, and the thought that that’s going to change, that we’re not even going to see each other anymore beyond dropping the twins off at each other’s houses—” Anakin broke off, biting his lip. “I guess I’d just been picturing all _four_ of us spending time together, as a family. I know you’re going to say that’s not _feasible,_ but it’s just what I’d always thought would happen.”

Padmé could suddenly see it, too. With aching clarity, she imagined her and Anakin sitting together on a park bench, smiling as they watched their children play, Padmé resting her head on his shoulder, Anakin with his arm around her…A small lump formed in her throat. Why couldn’t it just be like that? Why did everything have to be so complicated?

“I’d like that, too,” she admitted. “And we _will_ spend time all together, you and me and the twins. But it’s not like we can just—just move in together and raise them together forever. I mean, what happens in the future? When one or both of us is married? Our spouses will have to come first, before each other.” Padmé paused; the idea of her and Anakin no longer being the most important person in each other’s lives was acutely painful. But then she took a slow breath to calm herself and finished softly, “There are some things even we can’t share, Ani.”

Anakin was looking at her with a very odd expression indeed. “But we _could,”_ he said at last with quiet intensity. “We _could_ share everything.”

Padmé’s heart stopped beating altogether, then started again at a thousand times its normal rate. “W-what?” she stammered. “What do you mean?”

He quickly looked away and stared down at the floor, a faint blush staining his cheeks. “Nothing. Never mind.” Anakin cleared his throat and abruptly changed the subject. “Anyway, I feel better about the custody agreement now. You’re right, it _would_ be best for the twins to live with you permanently while they’re infants. And I’ll start saving up for a bigger place so they’ll be able to live with me when they’re older.”

“Okay,” said Padmé, willing her heart to slow down. “I know it’s a big compromise for you, so…thank you. And I guess we don’t need a third party intervention, after all.”

“Good. I was hoping to avoid that,” Anakin said with an easy grin, and Padmé laughed, relieved that the weird moment between them seemed to have passed.

“So, I think they’ll be able to tell us the genders at the ultrasound next week,” she said. “Do you want to know or not?”

“Well, I know how you feel about surprises, so I know you’re definitely going to have them tell you, and you’re really bad at keeping secrets, so there’s no way you’ll be able to stop yourself from telling me eventually,” Anakin teased.

“I’m not bad at keeping secrets!” Padmé said indignantly.

“Oh yeah? What about that time junior year of high school when I showed up at your house super drunk and you _called_ my _mom?”_

“It was for your own good. I was worried about you. Plus, it was payback for going to a party without me,” Padmé added.

Anakin scoffed. “I seem to remember I asked you if you wanted to come and you said you had to stay home and do homework because you’re _lame.”_

“I’m not lame, I’m _responsible._ Which is why I called your mom. And you said she didn’t even yell at you or ground you or anything, so…”

“She didn’t,” said Anakin. “Instead she started going on and on about how I was all she had and she didn’t know what she’d do if something happened to me, so then I just felt horribly guilty. I would’ve preferred getting grounded.”

Padmé shook her head, grinning. “Your poor mom, having to put up with so much shit from you all these years.”

“She’s probably praying at least one of the twins will be exactly like me so they can give me a taste of my own medicine.”

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been on the receiving end of an ‘I hope someday you have kids that are just like you!’ or two myself in the past.”

“Really? What did you ever do wrong?”

“Probably nothing that didn’t involve your influence somehow.”

As they both laughed, Padmé was relieved to feel all the afternoon’s tensions between them fully disappear. She hated being at odds with Anakin. Though in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but dwell on his _But we could. We could_ _share everything._ What exactly had he meant by that? If he’d meant what she thought he had—no, Padmé had probably just misunderstood. But when he placed his hand on the bedcovers beside hers, and when their fingers accidentally brushed together, and when they both jumped a little, and when they glanced at each other and blushed and hastily looked away, Padmé wondered if her impression might be right after all.


	7. Chapter 7

“I was right!” Anakin said triumphantly as they left the hospital. “I _told_ you it was a boy and a girl!”

“I never actually disagreed,” Padmé pointed out. “But I guess I’ll let you have this one.”

He looked smug. A few moments later, he said, “So now that we know it’s a boy and a girl, we should probably get working on picking names.”

“Probably,” Padmé said, nodding. “Want to go over the list this weekend and try to narrow it down some more?” She’d been keeping a list of potential names throughout the past five months, and Anakin had nearly keeled over when he’d seen how long it was. He’d then proceeded to scribble out at least half of it, declaring that _we can’t possibly name a kid that, they’ll be teased their whole lives, what is wrong with you, Padmé?_ She’d been less than pleased at the time, although in hindsight she recognized most of his eliminations were probably for the best.

Anakin agreed, and Saturday afternoon found them on Padmé’s sofa with papers, laptops, and baby name books spread out all over the place. Padmé pored over the boys’ list, chewing on the end of her pen as she added and crossed out, but there was one name she kept coming back to. “I think I have a favorite,” she said at last.

“What?” Anakin asked, looking up from the girls’ list.

“Luke.”

Padmé observed him carefully to judge his reaction. “Luke,” he repeated thoughtfully. Then he started nodding, a small smile spreading across his face. “Luke Skywalker. I like the sound of that.”

Padmé’s eyebrows shot up. “Skywalker?”

Anakin immediately narrowed his eyes. “Yeah,” he said, his tone challenging.

“Don’t you mean Naberrie?”

“No, I don’t mean Naberrie.”

Padmé frowned at him. “I’d _assumed_ they’d take my name.”

“Well, _I’d_ assumed they’d take mine,” Anakin retorted. “When the parents’ names are different, kids always take the father’s.”

“That’s the patriarchy for you,” Padmé grumbled, making him roll his eyes. “Besides, when the parents aren’t together, kids always take the mother’s name.”

“Only if the dad’s not in the picture.”

“Or if he is in the picture but could get out of it at any moment.”

“Are you saying you think someday I’m going to just up and abandon them?” Anakin asked heatedly.

“I should hope not,” replied Padmé. “All I’m saying is, I’m a single mother, so they should have my name.”

“You’re not a single mother.”

“Oh, really? So you’re my significant other, then? We’re in a romantic relationship?”

Anakin flushed and scowled. “I meant you’re not a single mother as in you’re not raising these kids alone. You’re not their only parent.”

Padmé was about to retaliate, but she suddenly heard Anakin’s voice in her head: _I don’t want to be the backup parent._ She sighed, closed her eyes, and silently counted to three, then opened them again and said calmly, “Do you think Naberrie-Skywalker or Skywalker-Naberrie sounds better?”

Anakin seemed to deflate somewhat. He thought about it, and after a few minutes he said, “Naberrie-Skywalker.”

“Great.” Padmé looked back down at the list. “So what do you think about Luke Naberrie-Skywalker?”

Anakin put his arm around her, and Padmé leaned into him, wordlessly ending their argument. “I love it. And I have an idea for the girl.” He held the list out for her to see; one name was circled and starred. “Leia.”

“Luke and Leia Naberrie-Skywalker,” Padmé mused, smiling. “Perfect.”

They told friends and family the twins were a boy and a girl, but kept quiet about their chosen names in case they ended up changing their minds later. Padmé didn’t think they would, though. Luke and Leia just felt right.

As the weeks passed, she began to feel the babies moving around, but thus far their movements were undetectable from the outside. “Oh, here’s another kick,” Padmé said one evening in the beginning of her sixth month. She rested her own hand on her stomach and beckoned Anakin to do the same. “It’s definitely starting to get stronger now. I bet you’ll be able to feel it if they do it again.”

They were sitting on the couch in Anakin’s apartment, waiting for Obi-Wan to return with dinner and Ahsoka with alcohol (not that Padmé could have any). “Do you think it’ll encourage them to kick if I poke you a little?” Anakin asked.

“Maybe. Try it and see.”

But he shook his head. “No, I don’t want to hurt them.”

Padmé rolled her eyes, though she was smiling. “You won’t. They’re perfectly safe in there.”

“Still. I’d rather just wait.”

“Suit yourself. We could be here a while.”

Fortunately, it was only ten more minutes before another strong kick arrived. Padmé grinned as she felt it under her hand, and Anakin gasped aloud. “Wow,” he murmured, beaming. He bent his head down further. “Hey, Luke. Hey, Leia. It’s Daddy. Did you know that you guys are really good kickers? I bet at least one of you is going to be a soccer player someday.”

Padmé chuckled quietly. Lately, Anakin had taken to talking to her belly, insisting that the babies would be able to recognize his voice if he talked to them enough; Padmé didn’t know if she believed that, but she wasn’t about to complain. It was ridiculously endearing.

A few minutes later, they felt yet another kick. “Look, they’re trying to say something back to you,” she told Anakin, and he laughed. Without really thinking about what she was doing, Padmé moved her hand closer to his and laced their fingers together on top of her baby bump.

Anakin looked up at her, surprised, and she blushed, but suddenly found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his. He straightened back up so that their faces were level once more, and then he was slowly leaning towards her, and Padmé was slowly leaning towards him, and her gaze instinctively flickered down to his lips, and—

“Food’s here!”

They jumped apart as if they’d been burned and looked over to see Obi-Wan coming in through the front door with a bag of takeout. “Took you long enough,” Anakin stammered as Padmé hurriedly scooched away from him, face flaming.

Luckily, Obi-Wan didn’t seem to realize what he’d just interrupted. “It’s not my fault. Traffic’s terrible downtown,” he told them. “Ahsoka’s probably still stuck.”

Ahsoka arrived five minutes later, swearing loudly about the traffic, and they sat down at the table to eat. Padmé had been longing for a nice glass of wine for six months, but never before had she felt its absence so keenly. Every time she and Anakin accidentally made eye contact, reddened, and ducked their heads, Padmé wanted nothing more than to be able to chug the entire wine bottle. And maybe do a couple shots of hard liquor for good measure.

Over the next several days, Padmé wondered whether or not she should try to bring up the incident with Anakin, but ultimately decided not to, which turned out to be a good call. Seeing as they hadn’t _actually_ kissed, it was easy to pretend that nothing had happened at all, and while they remained jumpy around each other for another week or so, it soon passed and they went back to normal again, to Padmé’s relief. She’d already had more than enough awkwardness with Anakin to last her a lifetime.

Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d almost kissed Anakin. Padmé didn’t know why she was so shaken by it; after all, the babies growing inside her were physical proof that they’d done far more than kissing in the past. Perhaps it was because it was harder to pass it off as an accident this time, seeing as they’d both been fully sober and in control of their actions. And the thing was, Padmé was almost… _disappointed_ that Obi-Wan had walked in before their lips had met.

She thought of all the little moments over the past few months, all the things that made her feel as if there could be something more between her and Anakin. As if she _wanted_ there to be something more. But no, that was ridiculous. Anakin was her best friend, and that was all…except now he was also the father of her children. Maybe that was just messing with her head. It was probably just weird pregnancy hormones making her feel extra attached to him, some uncontrollable biological impulse. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? It would all go away once the twins were born, and then everything could finally, finally return to the way it used to be.

Padmé tried to push all these thoughts aside—she was getting ready to have two babies, for God’s sake, she didn’t have time to question the nature of her relationship with her oldest, closest friend—and her and Anakin’s attention soon turned to setting up her spare bedroom as a nursery. To Padmé’s surprise, Anakin had very strong opinions about cribs (“We can’t get that one, the safety rating’s too low!” “What a piece of junk, I could build a better one myself!” “You’re seriously suggesting _this_ one? Look at it, they’ll fall right out!”), so she let him handle that while she fretted over the precise shade of yellow for the walls.

“They look exactly the same,” Anakin remarked, looking at the two sample splotches of paint on the wall.

“Are you kidding me? They’re _clearly_ different. Falling Star is _significantly_ more yellow than Old Straw Hat.”

“Well, I vote for whichever one is Falling Star, because I’m not painting our children’s room with something called Old Straw Hat. Who even comes up with—” Anakin suddenly froze, looking stricken.

Padmé looked at him in concern. “What’s the matter?”

He pointed over her head, and when Padmé turned to follow his gaze, she saw a miniscule spider lurking in the corner of the room where the walls met the ceiling. She shook her head. “Anakin, you are almost twenty-eight years old, and that is the tiniest spider I’ve ever seen.” Anakin only continued to look pleadingly at her, so she sighed and said resignedly, “Fine, I’ll get it.”

Padmé went out to the kitchen and came back armed with a chair and a tissue. She positioned the chair in the corner, climbed up on it, lined the tissue up, and waited, then struck abruptly and swiftly before the spider had a chance to scuttle away. “There. All set,” Padmé announced, crumpling the tissue up.

She moved her foot half an inch backwards—and her stomach plummeted as she started losing her balance. It was like everything began moving in slow motion. By the time she actually started to fall, Padmé had already realized it was going to happen and grimly acknowledged there was nothing she could do about it. She was falling, falling—

Until she hit not the ground, but a pair of warm, sturdy hands on her back. “Easy there,” said Anakin’s voice behind her. “I don’t want to have to rush you to the emergency room and explain that you only fell because I’m severely arachnophobic.”

Padmé laughed as he helped her the rest of the way down from the chair. “At least that might’ve taught you to squish the spiders yourself for once,” she said, tossing the crumpled tissue in the trashcan.

“Maybe…but honestly, it would take a lot before I was willing to do that.” A moment later, Anakin’s smile faded and he looked at her seriously. “Padmé, you’re six months pregnant now, and your balance just gets worse the more the twins grow,” he said, resting his hand on her stomach. “I shouldn’t have asked you to climb up there, it was stupid. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine,” Padmé assured him. “I’m not _that_ big and unbalanced yet, and I wouldn’t even have fallen far, anyway. Besides, you were here to catch me.”

“But what if I’m not next time?” Anakin asked. “I’m worried about you living here alone, especially once you’re in the last trimester. What if you fall or get hurt or something, and there’s no one here to help you?”

Padmé bit her lip. She privately thought he was worrying too much, but she _could_ see his point. And there was something she’d been thinking about for a while, ever since the day they’d talked about custody arrangements.

“You know, I was kind of thinking…I was thinking…maybe you could move in with me? Just temporarily,” she hastened to add, blushing, as she saw Anakin’s startled expression. “I mean, I don’t have a third spare bedroom, so you’d have to sleep on the couch because I am sure as hell not about to give up my bed while I’m pregnant, no offense. But that way you could be here during the later months in case something happens, or in case I go into labor in the middle of the night. And then you could stay a while after the twins are born, too, so that you’d be able to spend more time with them than you would if we lived in separate apartments.”

Anakin’s mouth was slightly open, and Padmé was afraid he’d be mad or laugh at her—but then he smiled. “Really? You want me to move in with you?”

“Yeah, if you want to. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the help I can get soon enough.” Padmé chuckled a little. “Besides, we make a good domestic team, don’t you think? I kill the spiders, and you catch me when I fall.”

Anakin laughed and impulsively pulled her in for a hug. “Okay. I’ll start bringing my stuff over as soon as I have time.” Padmé hid her face in his shoulder so he wouldn’t see how wide her smile was.

* * *

True to his word, Anakin gradually began carting his belongings from his apartment to Padmé’s, and within a few weeks, he was all settled. Padmé didn’t get much sleep these days—her back was constantly aching, not to mention that the twins had recently decided to kick her incessantly at night—so she was wide awake when she heard Anakin puttering around in the other room a couple days after he’d officially moved in. She glanced at the clock; it was two in the morning, and Anakin had to be up at six to get ready for work. Padmé climbed out of bed and went to go see what he was doing.

When she arrived, she saw him walking up and down the room, stretching his back and rolling his shoulders. Padmé tried (and failed) not to look at the toned muscles of his arms and abdomen, or at the way his pajama pants hung low over his hips. Anakin turned to look as he heard her enter, and she hurriedly lifted her gaze to his face. “What are you doing up?” he asked.

“Can’t sleep,” she replied. “You?”

“The same.”

Padmé glanced at the sofa, which was outfitted with a lumpy pillow and a meager blanket. No wonder he was having trouble sleeping. “I’m sorry for making you sleep on the couch. It must be uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s fine,” Anakin said quickly. “I’m just not tired, that’s all.” The humungous yawn that followed contradicted his words.

“Go sleep in my bed,” Padmé blurted out. “I’m not going to be getting much sleep anyway, so someone else might as well use it.”

Anakin shook his head. “I’m fine here, I promise. Besides, I’m not going to make _you_ sleep on the couch.”

Padmé knew he wasn’t going to back down (and she didn’t exactly want to sleep on the couch, either) but she also felt guilty for making him sleep there, so she said, hoping it was too dark for him to see the blush on her cheeks, “We could both sleep in my bed. There’s plenty of room.”

Anakin stared at her for so long that she started to get quite embarrassed indeed, but then he said, “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“I’m sure. Come on. It wouldn’t do your students any good if you fell asleep in the middle of class tomorrow, would it?”

“They’d probably like that, actually,” Anakin replied, grinning. “They’d think it meant extra recess.”

He followed Padmé into her bedroom, and she got back in bed. Anakin looked hesitant, so she patted the other half of the bed encouragingly, and at last he gingerly climbed in beside her as Padmé did everything in her power not to think about the last time they’d been in her bed together. She started tossing and turning so much that after about twenty minutes, Anakin said, “Still can’t sleep?”

“No. My back is killing me,” Padmé complained.

She was facing away from him, and she jumped slightly as she felt his hands come up to rest on her shoulders. “Can I?” he asked tentatively.

“Sure.”

Padmé closed her eyes as Anakin began kneading the kinks out of her upper back. He gradually moved down, and she sighed contentedly when he reached her lower back, where most of the pain was. “Is this helping?” he said after a few minutes.

“Yes. That feels amazing,” Padmé murmured drowsily. It was all she could do not to arch into the touch and purr like a cat. “Thank you, Ani.”

He chuckled. “Anything for you, Padmé.” His tone was so affectionate that Padmé might have taken note of it, had his soothing hands not already started to lull her to sleep.

The next morning, Padmé woke up slightly before either of their alarms went off. She was still lying on her side, and she could feel Anakin against her back, his arm draped loosely over her and his hand resting on her baby bump. Padmé closed her eyes again and snuggled into him a little, listening to his slow, steady breathing. She wanted to enjoy this moment just a bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk why but I'm just 100% convinced that Anakin would be terrified of spiders in a modern AU lmao anyway I hope you liked this chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this chapter, I've been super busy with midterms and then I kept flip-flopping on which scenes to include in this chapter and which to take out, but I'm really happy with the final version and hopefully you will be too :) Only 3 chapters to go after this one I think!

The beginning of Padmé’s eighth month meant only one thing: her baby shower. Sola had volunteered to take charge of planning it, with Ahsoka as her eager assistant, and Padmé had told them she didn’t want a big party, just a small, informal gathering in her own home. The short guest list included family (Jobal, Shmi), friends (Breha Organa, Barriss Offee, Aayla Secura, Luminara Unduli), and the coworkers that Padmé actually liked (Satine Kryze, Mon Mothma, Riyo Chuchi). All of them had responded saying they could attend, and Padmé was glad Sola and Ahsoka hadn’t decided to invite any additional people without consulting her; fitting twelve in her apartment would be challenging enough as it was.

It was a fairly casual and loosely-structured event (Padmé had opted out of any kinds of baby shower games), and the Sunday afternoon in question found them lounging around Padmé’s living room, eating appetizers and chatting. As the only other mothers there, Sola, Jobal, and Shmi regaled them all with pregnancy and baby stories—Padmé was particularly interested in hearing about what Anakin had been like as a baby, as was Ahsoka. They both mentally saved a few embarrassing details to make fun of him with later.

“He could be a bit of a handful at times,” Shmi admitted with a chuckle.

Everyone laughed—they all either knew Anakin themselves or had heard a lot about him from Padmé. “I bet,” Padmé said, grinning.

“And he had quite the defiant streak as a toddler. I remember I was cooking dinner one night and I looked over and saw him trying to stick his finger in an outlet. I ran over saying ‘No, Ani, don’t touch that!’ and he looked right at me, laughed, and started trying even harder.”

“So nothing’s changed, then,” observed Ahsoka.

“You know, Padmé, it’s great you’re having twins, because then you get two kids without having to deal with sibling jealousy when the second one’s born,” Jobal said next. “Sola was so mad when she figured out she was going to have to share Dad and me with you. We tried to explain to her how wonderful it would be to be a big sister, but she wasn’t having any of it.”

Padmé stuck her tongue out at Sola, who laughed and said, “Well, can you blame me? You’re only four years younger than me, but to this day everyone still treats you like the baby of the family.”

“But you were the _first_ kid, so you were more special,” Padmé argued.

“You’re both equally special,” Jobal assured her as Sola looked smug. “All this baby discussion reminds me, I brought an old photo album.” She dug around in her bag and took it out.

“Yes!” exclaimed Ahsoka. “I want to see Padmé’s baby pictures!”

Everyone eagerly gathered around as Jobal started flipping through the pages. “I think you should make this one your new city hall photo ID,” said Satine with a grin, pointing at a picture of two-year-old Padmé with chocolate birthday cake smeared all over her face.

“Is that you and Anakin?” Barriss asked when they reached the first day of kindergarten.

“Sure is,” Padmé said, smiling as she looked at her and Anakin’s younger selves. They were beaming and proudly wearing brand-new backpacks, and they’d both thrown an arm around each other’s shoulders.

“I remember that morning like it was yesterday,” Shmi said wistfully. “I was nervous about Ani starting kindergarten, but he was so excited. He ran off to meet all the other kids as soon as we got there, and it couldn’t have been more than five minutes before he came back with Padmé and said, ‘Mom, this is Padmé. She’s my best friend.’ I said, ‘That’s very nice, Ani, but you’ve only just met,’ and he shrugged and said, ‘Well, I asked her if she wanted to be my best friend, and she said yes, so now we’re best friends.’”

“If only making friends was still that easy,” said Sola as everyone laughed.

“And then they went right over to me and gave me the same speech,” Jobal recalled. “At the time I figured they’d be ‘best friends’ for maybe a week…and now here we are twenty-two years later.”

There was a chorus of “awwww”s at that, which resurfaced a few pages later as they reached photographic evidence of the infamous first grade wedding that Sola had officiated. Anakin was wearing one of Ruwee’s old suit jackets over his clothes (it came down to his knees), while Padmé had one white bedsheet wrapped around her body and another draped over her head. They were grinning at the camera, both missing a few front teeth. “I look more like a nun than a bride,” Padmé remarked.

“Yeah, but the effort was clearly there,” said Ahsoka; she was practically cackling in delight. “This is quite possibly the greatest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” She pulled out her phone, took a picture of the picture, and promptly sent it to Anakin and Obi-Wan (Anakin had been banished to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s apartment for the afternoon).

Jobal and Shmi both looked a little misty-eyed. “To think you two had a pretend wedding at age seven, and now at age twenty-seven…” Jobal trailed off and settled for patting her daughter’s baby bump to get her point across.

“Jeez, Mom, it’s not like we’re _married_ now,” Padmé said, rolling her eyes. Instead, they were having two babies together and they were living together and they knew everything about each other and they trusted each other more than anyone else in the world. Hell, they’d even been sleeping in the same bed for the past few weeks. Honestly, thought Padmé wryly, for all intents and purposes, they might as well have been married.

Ahsoka seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Not _officially,_ ” she said slyly. “But, like…let’s be real here.”

This was met with snickers all around, and Padmé, flushing, said, “Let’s move on to the next page, shall we?”

The photo album only lasted through elementary school, to Padmé’s relief; she wasn’t exactly eager for everyone to see pictures of her in middle school, braces and acne and all. After that, she opened gifts, glad that now she and Anakin would have _slightly_ less shopping to do themselves. Then they all made guesses as to when the babies would actually be born—Padmé’s due date was June sixth, but according to the doctor she was likely to be early since she was having twins, so most people guessed days in May.

Anakin returned at the end to say hello and thank everyone for the gifts. “How did it go?” he asked once all the guests had left. “Also, why did Ahsoka send me a picture of our first grade wedding? Not that I’m complaining, it was a nice throwback. I’d completely forgotten about it.”

Padmé laughed. “My mom brought an old photo album, so we were looking through it for a while. Want to go through all the stuff we got?”

Anakin was even more excited about having less shopping to do than she was. “Wow, I was dreading getting a stroller, the double ones are so expensive,” he said, looking thrilled. “This one’s really nice, too! Who was it from?”

“My parents and your mom all pitched in on it.”

“And look at all these clothes! People even got two of everything.”

Indeed, aside from especially big items or things that could be shared by both twins, all the guests had gotten two of their gift. “Well, yeah. Everyone knows we’re having twins,” Padmé pointed out. “It’s kind of common sense to get two of something where applicable.”

“Still, I don’t know if I would’ve thought of it. Maybe for the clothes, but not some of the other stuff.”

“That’s because you have no common sense.”

They spent the next few weeks buying everything they still needed, and in the first week of month nine, Padmé found herself overwhelmed by the urge to clean everything. She reorganized the twins’ bookshelf by author, then by title, then by color, then by genre (and almost punched Anakin when he asked how baby books could possibly have genres), before returning to by author. She changed the nursery setup approximately seven times until Anakin, who was doing all the heavy lifting, refused to move any more furniture and insisted that everything was fine where it was. Padmé vacuumed every morning when she got up and again before she went to bed, and sometimes also after Anakin got home from work and proceeded to track dirt throughout the house (she herself had finally agreed to start taking her maternity leave due to a combination of Anakin’s insistence and the fact that she was now so big that she was constantly tired, sore, and cranky).

Early one Saturday morning, Padmé turned off the vacuum and looked around the room, eyes narrowing as she beheld a small cobweb in the corner. She marched over with the duster, but it was too high for her to reach, so she went out to the kitchen, grabbed a chair, and lugged it back into the nursery. After an embarrassingly exhausting amount of effort, Padmé managed to clamber up onto the chair and was just reaching for the cobweb when—

“Padmé, what are you doing? Get down from there right now!”

“Hey!” she said indignantly as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist (as best they could with the nine-month baby bump in the way), and then she was being gently lifted off the chair and set back down on the safe, sturdy floor. She turned to see Anakin standing there with pajama pants and tousled hair, looking as if he’d just gotten out of bed; Padmé’s incessant vacuuming must have woken him.

He fixed her with a stern frown. “We’ve talked about this. This cleaning frenzy is fine, but only if you promise not to climb things or do any heavy lifting.”

“I wouldn’t have fallen,” Padmé grumbled.

“Oh yeah? Remember the spider incident?”

“That was one time! And it was your fault anyway for being such a wimp!”

“One time’s all it takes,” replied Anakin, apparently choosing not to address the second point.

Padmé huffed and crossed her arms. “I just want everything to be perfect for the twins,” she said. “There can’t be a single speck of dirt in the whole house, or a single thing out of place, or—”

“You’re nesting,” Anakin informed her, and his frown was quickly replaced with a fond smile. “A lot of moms do it in the last few weeks before birth. According to the books I read—”

“Oh, look at me, I read all the books, I’m so special!” Padmé snapped. “Stop mansplaining, Anakin. I _know_ what nesting is, I read all the books, too. And if you would just let me get that stupid cobweb—”

“All right, all right,” Anakin said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry for mansplaining. But you need to calm down.”

“Calm down? _Calm down?”_ she said in disbelief. “I’m exhausted, but I can never get any sleep. I’m constantly starving no matter how much I eat. I have _two additional humans_ inside me. I’ve gained forty pounds in the past nine months. I’m gigantic and bloated and ugly. I look like a beached whale. Not to mention the fact that in a few weeks’ time, I’m going to push said two additional humans outside of my body in the most agonizing process of my entire life. And you’re telling me to _calm down?”_

Anakin gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what this must be like for you.”

Padmé sniffed. “No kidding.”

“You were wrong about one thing, though,” he added.

She scowled at him. “Oh, really? Please, do tell me which part of my description of how I, personally, am currently feeling was inaccurate.”

“You’re not gigantic and bloated and ugly. When I look at you, I don’t see a beached whale. I see a strong, amazing woman who’s carrying our children inside her.” Anakin gave her a small smile. “Padmé, you are so beautiful, even now. _Especially_ now.”

Padmé didn’t believe him—he must be either blind or lying through his teeth—but that didn’t stop a lump from forming in her throat at the words. And when she saw the open honesty and admiration in his eyes, her breath hitched. Suddenly, she thought of Sola’s words regarding the final months of pregnancy. _If he says you’re beautiful and means it, that’s how you know he’s in love with you._

Oh.

But…no, surely not. Anakin was just being nice, that was all.

Padmé cleared her throat, but for once, she didn’t embarrassedly glance away from him. “I’m sick of being pregnant,” she admitted softly. “I just want them to be born already. I want to meet them now. And, dammit, I want my body back.”

Anakin pulled her in for a hug (which was no easy feat, thanks to the twins) and rested his chin on top of her head. “Just a few more weeks. They’ll be here in no time,” he soothed her. “And until then, let me help you with all this cleaning. I’ll get that cobweb, and you can start working on something else. Preferably something less physically demanding.”

Padmé sighed. It was a sad state of things indeed when climbing onto a chair was considered physically demanding. “Are you sure?” she asked, drawing back from the embrace. “Wherever there’s a cobweb, a spider usually isn’t far behind.”

Anakin squared his shoulders. “I’m sure. I’d face a million spiders if it would keep you from getting hurt.”

“Really? A million?”

“Well, maybe not. But definitely at least a thousand.”

The rest of the day was spent cleaning and organizing, and they both fell asleep soon after Padmé’s pre-bedtime vacuuming. When she woke the next morning, Padmé stayed snuggled in bed for several minutes before realizing that Anakin was gone. He never woke up before her on the weekends. Curious, she got out of bed and pushed the bedroom door open.

Almost immediately, Anakin was there blocking her path. “No! You’re up too early!” he complained.

“What are you talking about?” Padmé tried to get past him, but he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her back into the bedroom. “Why are you up already? Anakin, come on, let me get by.”

“No, you’re staying here.”

“But I don’t want to. I’m hungry.”

“I just need five more minutes,” Anakin pleaded. “Can you please just get back in bed for five more minutes?”

Padmé was baffled. “Why?”

“You’ll see in five minutes. Please?”

She sighed, rolled her eyes, and obligingly climbed back in bed. “There. Happy?”

“Yes, very happy. Now, stay right there and don’t move.” And he vanished once more, shutting the bedroom door behind him.

Padmé was just starting to silently grumble that it was getting closer to ten minutes than five when the door opened again and Anakin came in. Padmé furrowed her brow as she saw he was carrying a breakfast tray. “What’s all this?”

He beamed at her. “Happy Mother’s Day, Padmé.”

She gasped as Anakin carefully set the tray down in her lap. It contained a glass of orange juice, scrambled eggs, and a stack of pancakes covered with strawberries and blueberries. There was even a tiny vase of pink flowers in the corner. Padmé felt her eyes well up with tears, and then she started sniffling as a few spilled down onto her cheeks.

Anakin’s smile faded. “Oh. Was this a stupid idea?” he asked anxiously. “I’m sorry, Padmé, I just thought—”

“No, I love it,” Padmé said quickly, smiling broadly at him. He looked relieved and smiled back. “I was just surprised—I mean, I almost forgot it was Mother’s Day—and I’m not even a mom yet, really—”

“Of course you are,” said Anakin, placing a hand on her belly.

Padmé covered his hand with her own. “This—this is so sweet,” she said, gesturing at the tray with her other hand. “Thank you, Ani. For getting up early on a Sunday and going to the trouble of cooking all this. For being thoughtful enough to come up with the idea in the first place. And for everything you’ve done for me over the past nine months. The twins couldn’t ask for a better dad.”

Anakin smiled again and rested his head on her shoulder. “They couldn’t ask for a better mom, either. That reminds me, this is for you, too.”

He pulled an envelope out from underneath one of the plates and handed it to her. Padmé opened it up and saw that it was a hand-drawn card. Anakin’s artistic skills were at more or less the same level as those of the five-year-olds he taught, but it was still the best card she’d ever gotten. Inside, he’d written _Happy Mother’s Day! Love, Anakin, Luke, and Leia._

“Oh, Ani,” she sniffled. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

They sat in contented silence for a minute or two before Padmé said, “Now, get back in bed and help me eat all this, would you?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Anakin said, grinning, and he crossed around to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside her.

They made short work of the breakfast, and then Anakin led her out into the other room, where several presents were waiting. Padmé exclaimed (and teared up) over all of them. Some, like flowers and a necklace, were more traditional, while others were pregnancy-specific and seemed particularly clever to her; the fluffy slippers and spa gift certificate were big hits.

“How did you think of all this?” she demanded. “I wasn’t expecting any gifts in the first place, but even if I had been, I would’ve thought it’d just be baby clothes and things like that.”

“Well, this is _Mother’s_ Day, not babies’ day,” Anakin pointed out. “Today’s all about _you,_ and the twins already have everything they could possibly need and then some, anyway.”

Padmé beamed as she unwrapped a bottle of bubble bath solution, her aching body perking up at the thought of using it later. “You’re a genius, Ani.”

“Why, thank you. Although I have to admit, I _may_ have asked Sola for a few suggestions.”

Later that afternoon, Padmé had just gotten out of her bubble bath and put on her new slippers when her phone buzzed with a text. Upon checking it, she saw with pleasant surprise that it was from Sabé; she had sent it to their old high school group message. Padmé, Sabé, Dormé, Cordé, Rabé, Yané, Saché, Eirtaé, and Moteé had all been close friends in high school, though they hadn’t seen much of each other in recent years. In fact, Padmé realized guiltily, she hadn’t even mentioned her pregnancy to any of them. It was possible they’d found out at some point through another source, but surely in that case they would have contacted her to confirm and congratulate her, and nothing of the sort had happened, so she figured they must not know.

Padmé read what Sabé had to say. _Can’t wait to see you guys next weekend!! It’s been WAY too long!!!_

Almost immediately, the conversation was filled with others seconding her sentiments, but Padmé just stared at her phone in confusion. Next weekend? She was pretty sure she didn’t have any plans for next weekend, other than using her spa gift certificate and also trying to persuade the twins to hurry up and get out of her body. But when she pulled up her calendar, Padmé’s eyes widened as she saw that she did indeed have an event scheduled: high school reunion, 7pm.

She went to go find Anakin. “Our high school reunion’s next Saturday,” she informed him.

“Is it? I completely forgot. Well, I guess everyone will just have to miss us until the next one.” Seeing Padmé’s expression, he narrowed his eyes. “You’re not still planning to go, are you?”

“I RSVP’d a year ago saying I was coming,” she said. “And so did you. It would be rude not to show up.”

“I’m sure ‘through a series of unexpected events, I am now nine months pregnant with twins and cannot attend’ is as valid an excuse as any to skip out,” Anakin replied. “Besides, it’s just going to be a bunch of people who haven’t seen each other in ten years standing around in a hotel function room being painfully uncomfortable. Why would you even _want_ to go?”

Padmé remembered him making the same argument a year previously, though ultimately she had managed to convince him to send in an affirmative RSVP. “I want to see all my friends again,” she said, just as she had a year ago. “Sabé and everyone. I didn’t even think to tell them I was pregnant, and I feel bad enough about that without also bailing on them at the last minute after I _promised_ I’d be at the reunion.”

“Padmé, you are _nine months pregnant._ ”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t go anywhere or do anything.”

“You needed me to put your socks on for you the other day.”

“Then I’ll wear shoes that don’t require socks to the reunion.”

“What if you go into labor during it?” asked Anakin.

“I won’t,” Padmé said confidently. “My due date’s not until June.”

“But the doctor said twins usually come early, so we should be ready a few weeks ahead of the due date,” he reminded her.

“Okay, how about this. We’ll go for, like, two hours just so we can catch up with the people we actually like, and then we’ll go home.”

Anakin hesitated. “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” Padmé wheedled. “Only two hours. What could possibly go wrong in two hours?”

“A lot of things, actually.”

“It’s Mother’s Day, and you were the one who said that today was all about me, so that means you have to give me whatever I want, and I want you to come with me to the reunion.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, but he looked like he was trying not to smile at her guilt tripping. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll go for two hours.”

Padmé beamed and promptly texted Sabé and the others to say that she was excited to see them again. “You’ll be glad you went,” she told Anakin. “It’ll be _fun._ ”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he muttered.


	9. Chapter 9

As she was getting ready the next Saturday, Padmé was privately starting to regret her decision to go to the reunion, _not_ that she would have admitted it to Anakin after all the fuss he’d made (and was still making) about it being a bad idea. The thought of changing out of her pajamas and into a dress was extremely unappealing, as was the thought of standing for a long period of time. If the venue didn’t have comfortable seating, she was going to turn around and walk right back out.

She was also worried that her friends would be upset she hadn’t told them she was pregnant (she’d considered sending a heads up to the group text but had ultimately figured she’d waited this long, so she might as well wait one more week and explain herself in person). While they weren’t as close as they had been ten years ago, having a baby was a major life change and Padmé knew she should have told them, especially considering they knew and were friendly with Anakin, too. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to mention it to them; she supposed everything had been so hectic that it must have just slipped her mind, not to mention the fact that the circumstances of the pregnancy were awkward enough to explain that she’d gotten into a habit of avoiding doing so whenever possible.

Well, Sabé and co were certainly in for a surprise, that was for sure.

Padmé looked through her closet for the nicest maternity dress she could find that was also comfortable and ultimately settled on a flowy, light blue dress that ended just below her knees. She decided to leave her hair down—she was going to be sore and achy enough without having a bunch of pins digging into her scalp—and finished up with earrings, a necklace, and a pair of flats.

She went into the bathroom to do her makeup, and when she returned to the bedroom, Anakin was there and had changed into a button-down shirt and dress pants. “I look terrible,” Padmé said, sighing, as she caught sight of her reflection in the full-length mirror.

“You look great,” Anakin corrected her. He came over and rested a hand on her heavily swollen belly. “Hardly a day over six months.”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Though I still don’t want to.”

“Oh, stop being such a baby.”

Fortunately, the hotel at which the reunion was being held was only fifteen minutes away (Padmé and Anakin had both ended up moving back close to home after college), and they arrived a little after seven. Padmé’s regret intensified at all the startled looks she got from her former classmates as she and Anakin made their way inside. In high school, she’d had a reputation for being…not _shy,_ but definitely reserved and studious, and people were probably surprised she’d managed to land herself a man and get pregnant, she thought sourly. Not that she _had_ landed herself a man, per se. She’d just landed herself a best-friend-slash-accidental-baby-daddy.

She wondered if the two of them arriving together was cluing anyone in to the fact that Anakin was the father. Probably not; after all, they’d always been inseparable during high school, anyway. Everyone was likely assuming that they’d shown up together because they were best friends and that Padmé had a separate husband or boyfriend who hadn’t been able to come.

“ _Padmé! Oh my God!”_

Padmé looked around to see Sabé nearly knocking people over in her hurry to reach her. She was accompanied by Dormé, Cordé, and Rabé; the rest of their group must not have arrived yet. Padmé smiled broadly at her old friends. “Hey! It’s so good to see you! How are—?”

“You’re _pregnant?”_ Sabé interrupted. All four of them looked astonished. “How did I not know this?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys,” Padmé said at once. “I just…I don’t know, it’s been pretty crazy and I’ve been so busy, I guess I just forgot to let you all know. I’m really, really sorry.”

To her relief, they didn’t seem mad. On the contrary, they all began squealing their congratulations and hugging her.

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Or is it a surprise and you don’t know yet?”

“When are you due?”

“Actually, it’s a boy _and_ a girl. Twins,” Padmé replied, grinning as they all exclaimed anew. “And I’m due in two weeks, so I’m taking quite a risk by showing up here tonight, but I just really wanted to see you guys.”

They beamed at that. “Wait, so are you and Rush Clovis still together?” Cordé said, looking confused. “I thought you said you broke up a while ago.”

“We did, almost two years ago now.” Blushing a deep crimson, Padmé continued, “It’s actually, um…Anakin’s the father.”

The four other women gasped and rounded on Anakin, who had been standing quietly beside Padmé the whole time. “So you two are finally together?” asked Rabé excitedly.

“What?” Padmé said, alarmed. “No, we just—”

“I always knew it would happen,” Dormé sighed happily.

“You guys were _made_ for each other,” added Cordé. “Everyone always thought so.”

“Yeah, did you know you almost won class couple senior year?” Sabé grinned at the memory. “I was on yearbook committee, so we counted up all the votes and stuff, and I think you only lost by, like, ten votes. I’ll ask Eirtaé if she remembers how much it was when she gets here.”

“So how long has this been a thing?”

“Not only are you pregnant and didn’t tell us, but you also started dating Anakin and didn’t tell us?”

“You didn’t get married or something and not tell us, right? Because I’ll be pissed if there was a wedding and I wasn’t invited.”

“No, you guys are misunderstanding,” Padmé finally managed to interject. “We’re not together and we never have been. We’re still just friends. It was one time when we were drunk, and I ended up getting pregnant by accident.”

They looked as though she’d just told them Christmas had been cancelled. “Oh,” said Sabé, the single syllable laced with disappointment. “Well, congratulations to you both anyway.”

“Thanks,” said Anakin, speaking for the first time. Padmé glanced over at him and saw that his face was rather pink, as she was sure hers was. It wasn’t the first time in her pregnancy they’d been mistaken for a couple—in fact, they usually just went along with it rather than explaining their personal lives in detail to strangers on the street—but what Sabé, Dormé, Cordé, and Rabé had been saying about having always thought they’d end up together…and had they really almost won class couple ten years ago? Had their entire high school thought they were, in Cordé’s words, “made for each other,” and had Anakin and Padmé been the only ones who didn’t know?

Deciding it was time to change the subject, Padmé cleared her throat. “Is there anywhere we can sit down? I’ve only been standing for ten minutes and I’m already dying.”

Rabé nodded. “Yeah, we have a table nearby. Come on.”

They extricated themselves from the crowd and headed over towards one of the tables at the edge of the room. Padmé heaved a grateful sigh as Anakin helped her settle into a chair. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was better than nothing. Anakin scooted another chair closer so she could put her feet up (Padmé knew she looked undignified, but she really couldn’t have cared less), and then he asked, “Do you want anything to drink? Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry. I’m eating for three,” she replied, chuckling. “Would you mind looking to see if there’s anything I’d be able have? I brought some snacks, so don’t worry if it’s all fancy, unhealthy-looking stuff. And I’ll take a glass of water, too, please.”

Anakin immediately hurried off and came back a few minutes later with a small plate of food and a glass of water. As the evening went on, Padmé asked him to refill her glass or plate several times, and he always went without a word of complaint, even as his own food started getting cold from how often Padmé was sending him away from the table.

“I’ve felt really bad for being so high-maintenance these past few weeks,” Padmé admitted to her friends (all of whom had arrived by then and finished updating each other on the major happenings in their lives) while Anakin was off getting her a fourth glass of water. “It’s probably driving Anakin crazy, but he’s too nice to say anything about it.”

“He’s being so sweet with you,” Dormé commented with a smile. “Don’t get mad at me, but I’d definitely think you two were a thing if you hadn’t explicitly told us you weren’t.”

The others murmured in agreement, grinning, and Padmé sighed. “Come on, guys, we’re _friends._ Aren’t friends allowed to be nice to each other without people thinking they’re dating?”

“Of course they are. But when one friend is pregnant with the other friend’s baby…” Sabé trailed off, giving Padmé a significant look.

Before she could defend herself, Anakin returned. “Thank you, Ani,” said Padmé, taking her glass from him. “Why don’t you go look around for some of your old friends? I don’t want to make you sit here with me all night.”

Anakin shook his head. “That’s all right. I’d rather stay here in case you need anything. And you’re the only high school friend I really care about, anyway.”

Padmé blushed a little and smiled at him; out of the corner of her eye she saw her friends giving her smirks and knowing looks. The moment was suddenly interrupted by a cramp in her side. Padmé winced and put a hand on her abdomen.

It didn’t escape Anakin’s notice. “Are you all right?” he asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “It was nothing.”

But a dull ache persisted, and a while later she felt another cramp. “I’m fine,” she repeated to a worried Anakin. “Probably just more Braxton Hicks contractions. I’ve been having them on and off for a couple weeks, remember?”

“Well, even so, we should go home,” he said, standing up.

“No, come on, we just got here,” Padmé protested. “It’ll pass in a minute.”

Anakin reluctantly sat back down, but he still looked very doubtful—which was why Padmé did her best to keep a straight face as yet another small contraction hit. It was fine, she told herself. It wasn’t real labor yet, just another one of the many false alarms she’d had over the past few weeks. After all, it really would be unbelievably ironic if she went into labor during the reunion after Anakin had specifically worried that she would and she’d flippantly assured him she wouldn’t.

But then, within the next hour or so, Padmé noticed that the contractions were coming at regular intervals—still mild and spaced far apart, but clearly different from the sporadic, infrequent Braxton Hicks. Heartbeat speeding up as the realization dawned, she leaned closer to Anakin and whispered, “Don’t make a scene, but…I think I _am_ actually in labor.”

 _“What?!”_ he said so loudly that everyone in the vicinity turned to stare at them.

“I said don’t make a scene!” Padmé hissed.

But it was too late for that; Anakin looked panic-stricken, and he was practically yelling when he said, “Oh my God, Padmé, you—you’re in labor! We have to go! Now!”

Several people at nearby tables gasped, and Padmé’s face flamed. So much for a subtle departure. “All right, all right, I’m coming. Help me up.”

Anakin hurriedly helped her to her feet, and Sabé and the others moved in front of them to clear a path towards the exit through the crowd. By that point everyone seemed to have realized what was going on, and Padmé found herself fending off several well-wishers as they walked.

“Thank you, that’s nice of you to say.”

“Good advice, I’ll try to remember that.”

“Twins, actually. I’ll bring pictures of them to the next reunion.”

“Yes, he is. No, we’re not together. Long story.”

“Sorry, have we met before? Well, thanks anyway.”

When they reached the door to the parking lot, Padmé’s friends waved them off, calling “Good luck!” after them. “Okay,” Padmé said as they got in the car, trying to remain calm. “The doctor said we don’t need to go to the hospital until contractions are five minutes apart.”

“How far apart are they now?” Anakin asked, turning the car on and backing out of the parking space. He looked more freaked out than Padmé had ever seen him, and she sincerely hoped he’d manage to pull himself together by the time things got really intense; she’d have enough on her mind without having to worry about calming _him_ down, too.

“I don’t know, but a lot farther than five minutes,” she said.

So they ended up going back home, where they waited around for several hours, Padmé doing her best to ignore the discomfort and get some sleep—it was going to be a long night—and Anakin hovering and fretting. “All right,” he said, looking up from his watch around two in the morning. “It’s been every five minutes for an hour. Time to go.”

After catching her breath from the last contraction (they’d been gradually increasing in intensity and were now quite painful), Padmé nodded and got up to put her shoes on while Anakin grabbed the pre-packed bag of everything they’d need to bring to the hospital. They made it all the way down to the car before it really hit Padmé that _oh God, this was happening, she was in labor, she was finally going to have her babies._

Her breath started coming in short gasps, and tears sprang to her eyes. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?” Anakin asked anxiously. “That was stupid, of course it hurts, I just meant—”

“I’m not ready,” she sobbed. “I can’t do this, Ani, I’m not ready to be a mom! It’s going to hurt so badly, I’m scared— _ow!”_

“Hey, hey, shhhh,” Anakin soothed her, pulling her in for a hug and rubbing her back. “You _are_ ready, Padmé. You’ve spent months preparing for this. You’re going to be the best mom in the world, okay? And I can’t lie and say it won’t hurt, but it’ll be over before you know it, and then we’ll get to have a lifetime of raising our two beautiful, perfect kids. Every second of pain will be worth it, I promise.”

Padmé gave a few more shallow sobs, and Anakin reached out to wipe the tears off her cheeks. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead, and Padmé was too overwhelmed with emotion to be taken aback by the gesture. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go meet our babies.”

“Okay,” Padmé said, sniffling. She forced herself to take several deep, steadying breaths, and then she allowed Anakin to help her into the car. Once she was settled, Anakin got into the driver’s seat, reached out to squeeze her hand, then pulled out into the street and floored the gas pedal.

* * *

Afterwards, the details were fuzzy in Padmé’s mind. She vaguely remembered hours spent alternating between sitting in bed and pacing up and down the hospital room, body wracked with increasingly more frequent and painful contractions all the while. She remembered Anakin talking incessantly about nothing in particular in an attempt to distract her as the pain made her start sobbing in earnest. She remembered the combined relief and panic when the doctor finally told her it was time to start pushing, and she remembered desperately clutching Anakin’s hand and screaming until her throat was raw. She remembered the sound of his voice, comforting and trembling and encouraging all at once, though she had no idea what he actually said.

But as hazy as all of that was, Padmé would never, ever forget the moment she saw her babies for the first time. Luke was born first and given to her, wailing. Padmé started to cry too as she cuddled him against her chest, kissing his tiny forehead and his tiny cheeks and his tiny nose and his tiny fingers and his tiny toes. “Hi, Luke,” she said softly, her smile impossibly wide.

Anakin reached out to touch Luke, the awed, tearful look on his face mirroring how Padmé felt. She half forgot there was still another baby to be born until the doctor said, “Ready to start pushing again?”

“Noooo,” Padmé groaned. She was _exhausted,_ she just wanted to rest and spend time with Luke…

…and with Leia, who was still waiting to enter the world. “You can do it,” Anakin told her, stroking her sweaty hair and squeezing her shoulder encouragingly even as tears streamed down his own cheeks. “You’re doing so great, Padmé, you’re almost done. I know you can do this, because you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I’ll hold Luke so you can just focus on having Leia, okay?”

He gently took Luke from her, kissing him and holding him close and talking softly to soothe him, and Padmé steeled herself and focused on the task at hand. At last, after another agonizing ten minutes during which Luke stopped crying, the room was filled with wailing once again as Leia was born. She was placed in Padmé’s arms, and Padmé almost forgot to breathe as she gazed down at her daughter in utter wonder. Overcome by a fresh wave of tears, she started showering Leia with kisses as she had done to Luke.

The doctor came over to clean Leia up, wrap her in a blanket, and place a little cap on her head. Then Anakin passed Luke, who was already snuggled cozily in his blanket, over to Padmé once more and reached for Leia to have his turn holding her. She was still crying, so Anakin started rocking her back and forth and murmuring, “It’s okay, Leia. I’m here. Daddy’s here. You’re safe. I love you.”

Miraculously, her sobs began fading into small hiccups almost immediately; it might have been a coincidence, though Anakin would later insist that it was because she recognized his voice from all the times he’d talked to her and Luke in the womb. “Look at them, Ani,” Padmé said in a wobbly voice, beaming down at Luke. “They’re so—so _perfect.”_

Anakin seemed as if he was unable to speak, but he nodded vigorously, still staring at Leia like he couldn’t believe she was real. A few moments later he leaned against Padmé and said, voice thick with emotion, “I love you, Padmé.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

The next hour or two passed in a flurry of tests and examinations, but Luke, Leia, and Padmé were all declared to be in perfect health, and at last they and Anakin were given some time alone. The burst of energy and exhilaration Padmé had felt immediately after giving birth was fading fast, and the long hours of labor and delivery were starting to catch up with her. “I’m so tired, Ani,” she mumbled, eyelids growing heavy.

Anakin was holding Luke again at that point, and he lowered him into his bassinet before lifting Leia out of Padmé’s arms. “Get some rest,” he said. “You need it. You worked so hard, Padmé.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and once again, it didn’t even occur to Padmé to find it strange. “You’re incredible. I still can’t believe you did all that.”

“Neither can I,” she said, and Anakin chuckled. He shifted Leia into one arm and moved his free hand to cover Padmé’s. The last sound she registered before drifting off was the quiet snuffling of her children, and the last feeling was Anakin’s fingers laced through hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE TWINS ARE FINALLY HERE U GUYS!!!! I had to do a ton of research bc I have ZERO experience with childbirth, so here's hoping it came out mostly accurate or at least believable enough lmao. Also, I kid you not, this song was stuck in my head pretty much the ENTIRE TIME i was writing this chapter omg: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6Xdfql7C0Y


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another unexpectedly slow update, sorry!! There's only one chapter left after this (!!!!) and hopefully it'll be up sometime later this week. *insert the usual "everything I know about babies and parenthood I learned from google" disclaimer here* hope you like this chapter!!

The first weeks of parenthood were a blur. Twins meant twice as many feedings, twice as many diaper changes, and twice as much being woken up in the middle of the night, because Luke and Leia had apparently decided that having the same crying schedule would be much too convenient for their overwhelmed parents. Padmé had never been more exhausted (or sore) in her entire life, but despite all that, she was utterly over the moon.

The three grandparents had all wept the first time they met Luke and Leia, which had set Padmé and Anakin off again until their entire hospital room was a crying mess. Sola and Darred had beamed and promised to spoil them rotten, and Ryoo and Pooja had been delighted with their infant cousins. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, meanwhile, had declared that they were the most perfect babies they’d ever seen. Padmé was inclined to agree. It took her breath away every time she looked at Luke and Leia and thought in amazement that they were _hers_. Two tiny beings that were half her, half Anakin, and yet simultaneously their own unique little people.

Anakin took to fatherhood like a natural, just as Padmé had prayed he would all those months ago when she’d first found out she was pregnant. It warmed her heart beyond description every time she watched him with their babies, every time he cuddled them against his chest and kissed the tops of their heads, every time he sang them to sleep, every time he gazed at them as if they were miracles brought to life (which, of course, they were). And even the less glamorous moments, when he was changing their diapers or getting spit up on or desperately trying to soothe their wailing—even then, Padmé would get a funny feeling in her chest as she watched him.

She recalled the thoughts she’d had after she and Anakin had almost kissed, when she’d convinced herself that the growing attachment she felt to him was a side effect of pregnancy and it would vanish after Luke and Leia were born. But that wasn’t happening. In fact, Padmé felt as if the _opposite_ was happening. By now she fully acknowledged that the friendship they’d once shared was gone, and in its place was something so much stronger, so much deeper. She couldn’t even begin to put a label on what Anakin was to her now. “Best friend” wasn’t quite enough, but “father of her children” wasn’t quite enough either.

But their current equilibrium was only temporary, she reminded herself. Someday Anakin would move out of her apartment and into one of his own and they’d start shuttling Luke and Leia back and forth between them and they’d become co-parents instead of partners. Just as it had that day she’d tried to imagine her and Anakin married to other people and having their own families, the thought stung Padmé keenly. She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him to live with her forever. But she just didn’t know why.

Actually, when she really thought about it, when she really, truly thought about it, she _did_ know why she wanted—

But whenever Padmé got that far, it was like an alarm system went off in her brain, flashing red lights and all. _Danger! Danger! Turn back! Stop thinking!_ And fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately?) for her, not thinking was a very easy thing to do when you were responsible for two newborns. Most of the time, Padmé didn’t even know what day it was—hell, she hardly even knew what _time_ it was, since the twins’ lack of a sleep schedule meant that she no longer had one either. Wake up, take care of the twins, grab a bite to eat, take care of the twins, sneak in a quick nap, take care of the twins, take a shower if lucky, take care of the twins. Padmé quite literally did not have the time, energy, or attention to focus on anything other than Luke and Leia. And she especially didn’t have the time, energy, or attention to focus on anything Anakin-related that didn’t involve nudging him out of bed and burrowing under the blankets when one or both babies started crying what felt like five minutes after she’d finally fallen asleep.

Until one afternoon six weeks after the twins’ birth.

For the rest of her life, Padmé would always remember The Moment. At the time, she had no idea what prompted The Moment, nor was she ever able to figure it out, but regardless, The Moment happened. And it changed everything.

She was coming back from her six-week postpartum doctor’s appointment; Anakin had stayed home with the twins while she was gone. Padmé walked through the front door of the apartment and was greeted by the sight of Anakin stretched out on the sofa with Luke and Leia lying on their tummies on top of his chest. He was making silly faces at them, probably in an attempt to make them smile—Luke’s first real smile had occurred a few days previously (both parents may or may not have cried a little bit), but Leia’s still had yet to show itself.

“Guess what time it is?” Anakin was saying in his baby voice as she walked in. “It’s time for…the tickle monster!” He immediately started tickling them, one with each hand, and though the twins wouldn’t start to laugh for a few more months, the way they were cooing and gurgling at him and flailing their arms was just as adorable.

But for once, the perfection of her children wasn’t what caught Padmé’s attention. What caught her attention was _Anakin._ He was wearing a pair of ratty pajama pants and an even rattier T-shirt, and his hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb (or a shower) in _several_ days, and there were dark circles under his eyes, and all things considered this was possibly the least attractive she’d ever seen him.

And yet, in that moment, Padmé realized she was in love with him.

She would’ve expected the abrupt realization to feel like missing a step on the stairs, or like a trumpet fanfare was going off in her head, or at the very least like she was having a heart attack. But it didn’t. It felt like the missing piece of a puzzle was finally sliding into place. It felt like eating her mother’s lasagna. It felt like the sensation of waking up snuggled cozily in bed and looking out the window to see that a blanket of snow had fallen over the neighborhood while she was asleep.

It felt like coming home.

_Oh. Of course. Of course it’s him. It’s always been him._

Though years seemed to pass as she stood there, in reality it was only a few seconds, and Anakin stopped tickling Luke and Leia and turned his head to smile at her. “Look who it is!” he told the twins. “Is that Mommy? Yes, it is! Say hi to Mommy!”

Padmé was in love with him. She was in love with her best friend. She was in love with Anakin. He was looking back at her and waiting for her to say something. She needed to pull herself together. “Hey,” she managed after a moment, hoping her hesitation wasn’t long enough for him to notice. She walked over and planted a kiss on both babies’ heads before scooping Luke up.

Anakin pulled himself up into a sitting position so she had enough room to sit beside him. “How was the appointment?”

“Good. The doctor said everything’s looking great and I’m healing well.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah.” Padmé bounced Luke up and down, desperately trying to focus on him instead of on the fact that she was in love with Anakin. “How were they while I was gone?”

“Great,” said Anakin, smiling at Leia, who stoutly refused to return the gesture. “Well, Leia was crying for a little half an hour ago, but I sang to her and she calmed down.”

“Of course she did,” Padmé muttered; thus far, Leia was the fussier of the two, but Anakin’s singing almost always managed to soothe her, whereas Padmé’s never did. She tried not to take it personally. Their daughter just clearly had no musical taste, that was all.

“Hey, I’m a _great_ singer,” Anakin informed her, grinning. “And you’re terrible. It’s no wonder she always cries harder whenever you sing to her. It makes _me_ want to cry, too.”

Padmé would’ve given him a punch to the arm, but her right arm was busy holding Luke while her left hand was trapped by Luke’s own tiny hand clutching onto her index finger, so she settled for bumping Anakin with her shoulder. “Shut up, asshole.”

He gave her a mock-horrified look and covered Leia’s ears. “No swearing in front of the kids!”

_“You’re_ the one who always breaks that rule,” Padmé pointed out. “So I think I’m allowed to do it just this once.”

He laughed, and they sat there chatting and cuddling the twins until it was time for their nap, at which point they settled them in their cribs and Anakin headed off for a shower and Padmé finally had some time alone to _think._

She. Was. In. Love. With. Anakin. What the _fuck?_ How had this happened? _When_ had it happened? Because judging by her lack of shock, it had happened a long time ago. Well, no, she _was_ shocked, to be sure, but still, it felt so…right? Like this was the way things were meant to be. Like this was the way things _had_ been for ages but she’d been too oblivious to realize it.

So when had she fallen in love with him? Padmé racked her brains, trying to pinpoint which moment it could have been. Had it been when he’d held her hand and kept up a constant stream of encouragement as she’d struggled to bring their babies into the world? Had it been when he’d made her breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day? When he’d looked at her nine-months-pregnant-with-twins body and called her beautiful? When he’d felt the twins kick and talked to them and almost kissed her? When she’d told him she was pregnant and he’d promised to always be there for her? Could it even have been back when she slept with him? Or _before_ that? After all, as Sola had once said, even drunk, why would Padmé have slept with him if she wasn’t attracted to him on some subconscious level?

She put her head in her hands, sighing. She had no idea when she could’ve fallen in love with him. It could’ve been any of those moments, or none of them, or all of them. Perhaps she’d been falling for him a little bit every day, too gradually for her to even notice it happening until suddenly she was head-over-heels without knowing how she got there. If that was the case, how long had the process been going on for? Months? _Years?_ What if it had started in, like, high school or something? No, surely it couldn’t have taken Padmé _ten years_ to figure out how she felt, it _had_ to have been more recent. She rubbed her temples and tried to push aside wonderings of _when_ it had happened. What mattered was that it _had_ happened. She was in love with Anakin, her strictly platonic best friend with whom she now had two six-week-old children, and she needed to figure out what the hell she was going to do next.

Should she tell him? Padmé grimaced at the thought. Waking up beside him after a drunken one-night stand, mumbling to him that she was pregnant because of said drunken one-night stand—as mortifying and terrifying as both those experiences had been, the idea of admitting to him that she was actually genuinely in love with him was a thousand times worse. The other times had been accidents, they’d been drunk, they weren’t thinking straight. But this time…

And even if she did tell him, what would he say? Surely he didn’t return her feelings, so the best case scenario was him politely letting her down and the two of them proceeding to be massively uncomfortable around each other for weeks, if not months, if not years, if not the rest of their lives. And the worst case scenario…Padmé admittedly couldn’t picture Anakin actually being _angry_ with her for loving him, but _what if_ he was? Either way, their relationship would become strained, to say the least, and it would negatively impact Luke and Leia to grow up with two parents who were always tense and awkward and miserable around each other.

No, Padmé decided, she couldn’t tell him how she felt. She couldn’t jeopardize the twins’ stability—or her friendship with Anakin—like that. But the prospect of continuing to raise kids with him, continuing to live with him, continuing to _sleep in the same bed_ as him all while struggling under the weight of her bottled-up feelings…could she really live like that? And what about when the inevitable day came when he did move out? Would it feel like she could breathe again, not having Anakin so close to her anymore, or would it just hurt even worse now that she knew she was in love with him? Would it feel like she was losing him forever?

_Stop it,_ Padmé told herself firmly. She couldn’t do this, fretting and dithering and wondering what the future might bring. The best thing to do would be to just to forget about it. Luke and Leia needed her. She couldn’t waste time worrying about her newly discovered feelings for Anakin. Feelings which might not even be real, anyway. Maybe she was just delusional from lack of sleep. Either way, she needed to just put everything on the back burner and hope it would go away soon.

Padmé spent the rest of the day putting her resolution to the test. Unfortunately, ignoring it was easier said than done, given that her heart practically thumped right out of her chest every time Anakin so much as _looked_ at her. Hopefully he wasn’t noticing any odd behavior, or was just chalking it up to exhaustion if he did.

But there was a tense moment when they went to bed that night. It wasn’t as if they ever _snuggled_ in bed (or at least, they never fell asleep snuggling; whether or not they woke up that way was another matter) but after so many months sharing a bed, they were now perfectly comfortable sleeping close together and brushing against each other—until now. Anakin rolled over and accidentally grazed Padmé’s thigh with his hand, and she jumped about a mile and jerked away from him.

“You okay?” he asked, sounding puzzled and perhaps a tiny bit hurt.

“Yes. Sorry. I just, um, I’m…worried I might be getting sick,” Padmé stammered. “So I don’t want to get you sick, too.”

“Really? Well, you should go to the doctor tomorrow. Don’t want Luke and Leia to catch anything,” Anakin said anxiously.

Dammit. Poor choice of lie. “Yeah…I’ll try to go if I’m not feeling better. It’s probably nothing, though. I just…have kind of a headache. But it’s probably just from being overtired, not from being sick.” God, what was she saying? She needed to shut her mouth before she ended up making her little white lie way too weirdly specific.

Luckily, Anakin just chuckled and said, “Yeah, I hear you on that. Speaking of being overtired, the twins’ll be awake again in, like, two hours, so we’d better get to sleep as soon as possible.”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Ani.”

“Goodnight.”

Anakin’s breathing evened out within minutes, but Padmé was wide awake. She was in love with him. She’d gotten pregnant with his children, moved in with him, and _then_ fallen in love with him. And now he was _right there,_ about two inches away from her. This was a sick cosmic joke if ever she’d seen one. She sighed and rolled over to face away from him. _Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it._ Padmé was going to act like everything was normal, and sooner or later she’d fall back out of love with him. Probably. Maybe. Possibly.

This was a disaster.

* * *

The weeks flew by, and soon Luke and Leia were three months old and Padmé was still in love with Anakin. It was a warm August day and they’d driven to the park to take the twins on a walk. Anakin unloaded the stroller from the trunk of his car, and he and Padmé each moved one twin from their car seats to the stroller before starting down their usual path.

They’d only been walking a few minutes when Anakin started feeling the pockets of his jeans and then said, “Huh, I guess I forgot my phone in the car. I’ll be back in a second.”

“All right,” said Padmé, taking control of the stroller as he hurried back the way they’d come.

A minute or two later, she heard someone say, “Aren’t they just the cutest little things!”

Padmé looked up and saw an elderly woman smiling at Luke and Leia, and she swelled with pride. “Thank you,” she said.

“How old are they?” the woman asked.

“Three months. They’re twins.”

“Twins? Goodness, that must be a handful.”

Padmé chuckled. “It definitely is, but it’s so worth it.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” said the woman, nodding. “They’re _adorable.”_

Padmé beamed, and out of the corner of her eye she saw that Anakin was returning, phone in hand. Just as he’d come to a halt beside them, a firetruck whizzed by, sirens blaring, and Padmé immediately winced and looked anxiously down at the twins, knowing how much they hated sudden loud noises. Leia just scrunched up her face unhappily, but Luke, sure enough, burst into tears.

Padmé started to reach for him, but Anakin beat her to it, lifting him out of the stroller and snuggling him. “It’s okay, Luke, it was just a truck,” Anakin said, kissing his cheek. “It’s all gone now.”

“Poor dear,” the elderly woman said sympathetically. She looked from Anakin and Luke back to Padmé. “This must be your husband.”

“No! No, no, we’re not together,” Padmé said quickly, feeling her cheeks heat up. “We’re just friends.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to say so; she usually just smiled and nodded whenever strangers made assumptions about her and Anakin’s relationship.

Indeed, both Anakin and the woman were giving her odd looks. “Oh, excuse me,” the woman said politely, but then she smiled again. “Well, I hope you all enjoy the rest of this beautiful day.”

“Thank you. You too,” said Padmé, and the two parties continued on their separate ways.

“Who was that?” Anakin asked once the woman was out of earshot.

Padmé shrugged. “She just stopped to tell me how cute these two are. I can’t believe she thought you were my husband.” She laughed nervously. “As if, right?”

She thought she saw a weird expression cross Anakin’s face, but then he laughed, too. “Yeah. As if,” he echoed. Was it just Padmé, or did he sound oddly disappointed?

No, she was probably just imagining things or projecting her own feelings onto him. After all, when the woman had referred to Anakin as her husband, for a moment, Padmé had wanted nothing more than to be able to say that he _was._

So not only was she in love with Anakin, but now she was wishing she was _married_ to him? This wasn’t a disaster. This was a _catastrophe._

* * *

Later that day, Anakin tentatively tried to question Padmé’s overly aggressive reaction to the woman in the park thinking they were married, but she mumbled something vague and immediately changed the subject, so he never bothered bringing it up again, to her relief. Still, she couldn’t help but worry that she’d given herself away and now he knew how she felt about him. But surely no one was that perceptive, especially not Anakin. She was just being paranoid. Right?

The twins were slowly starting to sleep in longer stretches during the night, but even so Padmé was constantly exhausted, so when Obi-Wan and Ahsoka came over the next Saturday, she only managed to make small talk for ten minutes before excusing herself for a nap and leaving Anakin to entertain them and the twins on his own.

After about an hour, faint crying started weaving itself into Padmé’s dreams until at last she was fully conscious, and she reluctantly opened her eyes. She debated for a minute whether or not she should go deal with it, but then it faded again into silence. Anakin must have successfully soothed whichever twin it had been. Padmé closed her eyes again, but to her annoyance, she couldn’t fall back asleep. She spent twenty minutes trying in vain to drift off, and at last she gave up and climbed out of bed, intending to rejoin her friends.

But she’d only taken one step into the other room when she froze upon hearing her name.

“…nothing to worry about, because Padmé’s your best friend,” Ahsoka was saying. “Just talk to her about it.”

Talk to her about what? What was Anakin worried about? All three of them were sitting on the sofa with their backs to her, but Padmé drew back into the bedroom slightly anyway, though she left the door open so she could continue listening.

“That’s exactly why I can’t,” Anakin replied, sounding gloomy. “It would make everything so weird between us, and I just can’t deal with that happening _again,_ especially now that these two are here and needing us to be calm and normal.” He gave Luke a kiss, then leaned over to kiss Leia, who was in Obi-Wan’s arms.

“But aren’t things weird now?” Obi-Wan asked, bouncing Leia up and down a bit and making her gurgle happily.

“No, things are fine.”

“Well, _you’re_ not fine.”

“Yeah, but _she_ is. She has no idea about any of this. I don’t want to mess that up.” Anakin sighed. “Look, whatever. I don’t want to embarrass her, so I just won’t say anything, and eventually it’ll go away.”

“I _guess,”_ Ahsoka said doubtfully.

“I still think you should be honest with her,” Obi-Wan added.

Anakin scoffed. “Well, you’re the _last_ person I’d take romantic advice from, Obi-Wan. You’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask Satine on a date for, like, three years.”

Ahsoka’s laughter and Obi-Wan’s indignant splutters became muffled as Padmé beat a hasty but silent retreat towards the bed and got back under the covers, heart pounding. Romantic advice…about _her_ …something Anakin was afraid to talk to her about…there was only one explanation.

He—he _knew._ Anakin somehow had figured out that she was in love with him, and it was making him uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to embarrass her by bringing it up. So he was planning to ignore it and pretend he didn’t know until she fell out of love with him again and everything went back to normal. But how could he possibly—? It must have been the park incident. She _knew_ she’d been too obvious, had acted too strangely for it to go unnoticed.

Padmé burrowed further under the blankets, tears pricking her eyes. It was mortifying to think that Anakin knew how she really felt, and as if that wasn’t bad enough…she’d known he’d never be interested in her, but still, if he not only didn’t feel the same way, but her feelings actually made him _uncomfortable_ …

_Things are fine._

_Well,_ you’re _not fine._

_Yeah, but_ she _is._

Anakin was unhappy that Padmé was in love with him, but he wasn’t going to let on that he knew in order to spare her feelings. God, he was so _nice,_ so good to her. He always had been. That was why she loved him so much. She almost wished he _would_ be awful to her about it; at least that might help her get over him more easily. And, humiliating as it would be, if Anakin confronted her, then everything would be out in the open instead of them both dodging the truth and acting like nothing had changed.

But that train of thought still wasn’t incentive enough for Padmé to want to bring the topic up with him herself. If he wanted to pretend he didn’t know how she felt, then she’d just follow his lead and pretend she didn’t know he knew so that he wouldn’t know she knew he knew. She groaned softly. This entire situation was ridiculous. It was her own damn fault for falling in love with her best friend. Why the _fuck_ had she had to go and do that? It was ruining _everything._ Padmé longed for their simpler days, the days when the two of them had always gone to each other to talk about crushes and first kisses and first heartbreaks.

But now, when she needed his ears and advice the most, Anakin was the one person she couldn’t confide in.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know how I said this was going to be the last chapter? Well, I LIED bc it turns out I don't know how to let something end and there's gonna be an epilogue after this :) Anyway, without further ado, here it is, the chapter you've all been waiting for :) Hope you enjoy!!!

“So I was thinking,” Padmé said casually one day when Luke and Leia were just shy of five months old. “I was thinking…maybe I could help you start looking around for your own place soon.”

After several weeks in which she’d convinced herself that Anakin hated her for being in love with him (and several nights in which she’d almost fallen out of bed because she was afraid he’d think she was trying to jump him if she touched him by accident), she had decided that the only thing to do was to encourage him to move out. He was probably miserable living in such close quarters with her now that he knew she had feelings for him, but was too polite to say he wanted to move out, so Padmé was taking it upon herself to let him know that it was all right with her if he wanted some space from her. Well, it _wasn’t_ all right with her, frankly, but she didn’t want him to know that.

Anakin looked startled, and…a little disappointed? No, Padmé was just imagining things. He was probably thrilled. “Oh,” he said. “Well, okay, if you want. I don’t want to impose on you any longer if you want your apartment back.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Padmé said quickly. “I just mean, it’ll have to happen sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner, right? That way all four of us can start getting adjusted to how things are going to be permanently. We _did_ always mean for this arrangement to be temporary.”

“You’re right,” said Anakin; his expression was carefully neutral. “But I thought we were going to wait until the twins were at least a year old before talking about having them go back and forth between us.”

“Yes, definitely, but it’ll take a while to find a place and close the deal and get all moved in, so even if we start looking soon, it could easily take until they’re one before everything’s settled,” Padmé pointed out.

“That’s true.” Anakin cleared his throat and smiled. Did it seem a bit forced or was she just seeing things? “I guess we can start looking around online now, if you want.”

It wasn’t what she wanted at all, but surely it was what _he_ wanted, so Padmé smiled too and said, “All right.”

They spent a while doing some preliminary research and calculating Anakin’s budget, and it was another month or so until the search began in earnest. Even after all her encouragement on the subject, when push actually came to shove, Padmé found herself dragging her feet. She came up with some deal-breaking complaint or other for every apartment they looked at. Too expensive. Too small. Too far away from her apartment. The neighborhood looked unsafe. The walls were too thin and loud neighbors would bother the twins. They wouldn’t like the construction noises across the street.

So it went. Anakin accepted all of her complaints, and Padmé couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he didn’t want to move out any more than she wanted him to. But they kept looking and looking as their realtor grew increasingly frustrated with their pickiness, and finally when Luke and Leia were almost seven months old, they found the perfect place.

It was a Sunday afternoon about a week before Christmas, and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had tagged along with them. The apartment in question was on a relatively quiet street fifteen minutes from Padmé’s building. It had two bedrooms and a study that could potentially be converted into a third once the twins were old enough to want their own rooms. The whole thing was fairly spacious _and_ under budget. To her dismay, Padmé couldn’t find a single thing that was wrong with it.

“It’s perfect,” Anakin declared, smiling as they came to a halt in the largest bedroom. He planted a kiss on Luke’s cheek. “What do you think, buddy? Do you like this one? Do you want to live here?”

“For half the time,” Padmé added sulkily, clutching Leia just a little bit tighter. She couldn’t bear the thought of only spending half as much time with them once Anakin moved out. What was she supposed to do on his days with the twins when her apartment was silent and empty?

“For half the time,” Anakin amended. “So what do you think of it? Isn’t it great?”

“I don’t know,” said Padmé. “I don’t like it.”

He frowned. “You don’t? What’s wrong with it? It has everything on our list.”

“I just don’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t, okay? I think we should keep looking.”

“Why are you being so difficult about this?” Anakin demanded, irritated. “You’re the one who’s kicking me out, remember? And now every single place we look at, you find some tiny flaw and make us keep looking.”

_“I’m_ the one who—? I’m not kicking you out!” Padmé said indignantly. Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and the realtor were looking back and forth between the two of them as if they were watching a tennis match. “You wanted to leave!”

“What? No, I didn’t! I just agreed because you seemed like you didn’t want me living with you anymore!”

“Yeah, because I felt bad for making you uncomfortable!”

Anakin looked bewildered. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“You figured out how I feel about you, so I thought you wouldn’t want to live with me anymore now that you know I’m in love with you!” Padmé burst out.

She heard gasps from the onlookers, and Anakin gaped at her. “I—you—w-what?” he stuttered after a minute. “You—you’re—you’re in _love_ with me?”

“Didn’t…didn’t you know?” Padmé said uncertainly, his flabbergasted expression starting to make her fear she’d just made a terrible mistake.

The realtor cleared her throat. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Let me know when you’re, ah, finished here.” She hurried out of the room

“Good call,” Ahsoka said. She and Obi-Wan looked astonished and weirdly thrilled. “Come on, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan reached to take Luke from Anakin, who dazedly let go of him, still not taking his eyes off Padmé. “We’ll meet you two outside,” Obi-Wan said, though Padmé barely heard him over the pounding of her heart.

“Your parents are the biggest dumbasses I’ve ever met,” Ahsoka cooed to Leia as she lifted her out of Padmé’s arms.

“No swearing in front of the twins,” Padmé said automatically.

“What? I’m just telling it to her like it is.”

“We told you so, Anakin,” Obi-Wan called over his shoulder as he carried Luke out of the room.

“Hell yeah we did.”

“No sweari—”

“We’ve been waiting over a year for this to happen,” Ahsoka interrupted. “You guys are such _idiots.”_ And with that pronouncement she followed Obi-Wan out, snickering loudly and shutting the door behind her.

Padmé’s face flamed as she had no choice but to meet Anakin’s intense gaze. “So—so what were you saying?” he said rather faintly. “About—are you really—and you thought I _knew?”_

“I-I heard you talking about it to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka one day a couple months ago, when you thought I was asleep,” Padmé mumbled. So he hadn’t known after all? And she’d just told him? What had she _done?_ “They told you to talk to me about something, and you said you couldn’t because it would make things weird, and then you said that you felt weird about something but I didn’t feel weird because I didn’t know about it, but you didn’t want to talk to me about it because you thought it would embarrass me. And you said you were just going to ignore it and hope it went away. So I—I thought you’d found out I was in love with you and you were upset but you didn’t want to hurt my feelings by telling me you knew.”

Even as she spoke, it was dawning on Padmé that she might have done some _serious_ jumping to conclusions in her analysis of the partially-overheard conversation. She mentally kicked herself. What was wrong with her? Why had she automatically assumed, based on nothing but paranoia, that they’d been referring to her feelings for Anakin? Hell, how would he even have been able to find out? Aside from the one awkward moment at the park (which in hindsight hadn’t actually been that big of a deal) she’d been very secretive about it. And now she’d just gone and let the cat out of the bag anyway because she _thought_ he knew when in fact he didn’t.

Anakin’s eyes had narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to place the conversation she’d described, but then they widened again and a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face. “We weren’t talking about you being in love with me,” he said. “We—we were talking about _me_ being in love with _you.”_

Now it was Padmé’s turn to gape. _“What?”_

“They thought I should tell you how I felt, but I was scared you’d be upset and it would make us awkward again, so I decided not to do anything about it,” he said, flushing and looking embarrassed, amazed, and hopeful all at once. “And when you were getting all insistent that I move out, I figured I’d made the right call since it seemed like you didn’t want me around anymore.”

Distantly, Padmé’s brain was objecting to the idea that Anakin could ever think she wouldn’t want him around, but there was only one thing she could focus on at the moment. “Ani, you’re…in love with me?” she managed, heart skittering madly.

Anakin bit his lip and nodded, then gave her a tiny, hesitant smile. “Yes,” he said softly. “I’m in love with you, Padmé. I’m in love with you.”

Before she even had time to fully process his words, he was closing the distance between them in a few steps and reaching out to cup her face in his hands, which were trembling slightly. Padmé’s eyes fluttered shut on instinct, and then his mouth was against hers and all conscious thought came to a complete screeching halt.

His lips were a little chapped, but soft and warm, and Padmé melted into the kiss, sliding her arms up to rest on his shoulders and then to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, clinging to him. Anakin left one hand on her cheek, but the other threaded itself through her hair, tilting her head up slightly towards him.

Padmé was certain that nothing had ever felt so right. This was where she was meant to be, in Anakin’s arms. This was home. It always had been, she realized, even before she’d had any romantic feelings towards him whatsoever. He had always been home to her.

At last they drew apart to take a breath, and Anakin rested his forehead against hers, eyes shining with joy. “You’re in love with me,” he murmured.

“Yes,” Padmé said simply, smiling back at him. “And you’re in love with me.”

“I am.” Then he started to laugh, which made her start to laugh too. “What the _hell_ took us so long?” Anakin got out after a moment.

“I don’t know,” Padmé said through her giggles. “Ahsoka’s right. We _are_ idiots.”

Anakin hummed in agreement, and then he bent his head and kissed her again. Padmé smiled against his lips and stood on tiptoes to reach him better. Nothing else in the world existed in that moment, nothing but her and Anakin and their mouths moving in synch and their hearts beating in time and—

“Just so you know, we have to be out of here in ten— _oh.”_

Startled, they pulled away slightly and looked over at the intruder, who turned out to be Obi-Wan (and Luke). He looked surprised but delighted, and indeed Padmé and Anakin were both too elated to do anything but beam at him, not at all sheepish at having been caught. “We have to be out of here in ten minutes,” Obi-Wan repeated once he’d recovered himself, though he was still grinning. “There’s another party coming to check the place out.”

“Okay,” said Padmé. She was still wrapped up in Anakin’s arms, and she made no move to untangle herself. “We’ll be there in a second.”

Luke babbled excitedly and reached out towards them, so at last Padmé let go of Anakin and went to take him from Obi-Wan, who promptly departed once more. “I guess we should head out there, too,” she said, shifting Luke into one arm and using her free hand to try to smooth out the damage Anakin had done to her hair.

He stepped closer and caught her hand, twining their fingers together and smiling at her a little shyly. “All right. Let’s go.”

Padmé turned pink and smiled back, and they went to rejoin the others, still holding hands. Ahsoka gasped when she noticed, and Obi-Wan’s grin widened, and the realtor appeared to be simultaneously confused, exasperated, and entertained. “So it looks like I’m not in the market for a new house after all,” Anakin told her. Then he glanced at Padmé, suddenly slightly worried. “Right?”

She squeezed his hand. “No, you’re not moving out. Unless you want to.”

“I don’t. I never did.”

“I never wanted you to, either.”

“Then why have you been house-hunting for the past two months?” Ahsoka asked, rolling her eyes. “I’d punch you both if this—” She gestured at their entwined hands and broad smiles “—wasn’t so adorable.”

She passed Leia back to Anakin, who let go of Padmé’s hand only long enough to settle her in his other arm, and they all put their coats back on and trooped outside. The realtor grew markedly more cheerful when Anakin and Padmé apologized for wasting so much of her time and assured her they were still going to pay her commission. “Well, you’ve certainly given me a good story to tell at the office, at any rate,” she said wryly, and they laughed and thanked her for all her help before heading towards their own car as she got in hers and drove off.

“I was going to ask if you were free to have lunch with us, but I’m guessing the answer is no,” Obi-Wan remarked.

“Probably not,” Anakin agreed, still beaming at Padmé. Objectively, she knew they probably looked disgustingly lovesick, but she couldn’t have wiped the smile off her own face if her life depended on it, and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka just chuckled and bid them goodbye (though not without one last “I told you so” from Ahsoka).

“What did she tell you so?” Padmé asked Anakin as they strapped the twins into their car seats.

“She kept saying she thought you felt the same way about me,” he replied, shutting the back door and getting into the driver’s seat while Padmé did the same on the other side of the car. “So did Obi-Wan. But I told them they were crazy, because I was so sure you only saw me as a friend.”

“I did, for a while,” she admitted. “I realized how I really felt…I don’t know, pretty soon after the twins were born. So I guess that was a long time ago by now.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Anakin said, pulling out into the street. “I swear they were born yesterday.”

“I know,” Padmé said with a wistful laugh. “Anyway, I think I fell in love with you way before that, I just never noticed until then.”

“The same thing happened with me. When I realized I was in love with you, I almost wasn’t even surprised. It just made so much sense.”

“So when did _you_ realize it?” she said curiously.

Anakin thought for a minute. “I think it was the day we first talked about custody arrangements,” he said at last.

“Really?” said Padmé, raising her eyebrows. “You realized you were in love with me because we had an argument? That’s not very romantic.”

He laughed. “It wasn’t because of the _argument,_ necessarily, more because of what it made me think about. I remember you were talking about what we should do for holidays, and you said something about us being married to other people in the future, and I just…I don’t know, it suddenly hit me that the thought of you marrying someone else hurt, and the thought of _me_ marrying someone else was—I couldn’t even imagine it.” They stopped at a red light, and Anakin looked over at her, the openness in his face making her breath hitch. “I realized that I couldn’t imagine myself being with anyone but you. I couldn’t imagine myself having a family with anyone but you. Because you _are_ my family, Padmé, even before we had kids together. You’ve been my family ever since we were five years old.”

Tears sprang to Padmé’s eyes, and she reached over to the steering wheel and rested her hand on top of his. “You’ve always been my family too, Ani,” she said. “I love you, and I’m in love with you.”

“I love you and I’m in love with you,” he echoed, looking a bit misty-eyed himself.

They sat there gazing at each other and smiling for another minute or so before they were rudely interrupted by the line of cars behind them honking angrily. They both jumped and realized the light had turned green, and Anakin hurriedly started driving again. “You know, for a second there I was afraid you were going to say you knew you were in love with me way back when we slept together,” Padmé said, snickering. “Because then it would’ve felt like you got me drunk on purpose so you could seduce me.”

Anakin burst out laughing. “No, I promise you, I was just as drunk and oblivious to my feelings that night as you were.”

“That’s a relief. I’d hate to think I was unknowingly friendzoning you for years,” she said rather sarcastically, and he laughed again.

They arrived home a few minutes later. Padmé and Anakin each carried one twin inside, then took off their coats and hats and mittens and sat down on the floor of the nursery to play with them. “So,” said Padmé, scooching closer to Anakin, stomach squirming pleasantly as he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. “What happens now?”

“What happens now is—” He was cut off by loud, indignant noises from the twins as they started engaging in some sort of tug-of-war over a teddy bear. “What happens now is we save that poor teddy bear from being ripped to pieces,” he said, and Padmé laughed.

Anakin leaned over and pulled the bear out of both their hands, and Luke and Leia immediately started directing their outraged squeals towards him instead. “No fighting over toys,” Anakin said sternly. “Share with each other.”

“Luke, sweetie, look at this one,” Padmé said, holding his favorite stuffed elephant out to him enticingly. Luke smiled and took it from her, babbling happily; Anakin had to do a little more coaxing, but eventually managed to convince Leia that a giraffe was even more fun than a teddy bear (they didn’t like to give the fought-over toy to either twin afterwards for fear of encouraging bad behavior).

Once Luke and Leia were both cheerfully engaged in their play again, Padmé turned back to her original question. “Barring any more stuffed animal crises, what happens now? With—with us,” she clarified a bit shyly. Yes, she and Anakin both had feelings for each other, but that didn’t necessarily mean he actually wanted a relationship…

“Well, I guess we see if we can juggle a new relationship and two babies at the same time. I-I mean, if you—if you want to,” Anakin hastily backtracked, looking anxious. “But if that’s not what you want—”

Padmé smiled in relief and cut off his doubts by taking his hand. “That _is_ what I want,” she said. “I want to be with you, Ani.”

Anakin looked relieved, too, and exhilarated and a thousand other things besides, so instead of trying to express his feelings with words, he leaned in and kissed her. “Our families are all spending Christmas together next week,” he said when they stopped to take a breath.

“I know,” Padmé said uncertainly, not sure how that was relevant.

“So, would it be okay if—can I introduce you to my mom as my girlfriend?” Anakin asked, biting his lip and looking nervous and hopeful at the same time.

Padmé’s heart soared, and a wide smile spread across her face. “I don’t know if ‘introduce’ is the right word, seeing as I’ve known your mom for twenty-three years,” she teased.

“You know what I mean,” he said, laughing.

“I do,” she acknowledged. “And that would be okay with me, as long as I can also ‘introduce’ you to _my_ parents as my boyfriend.”

Anakin smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “That would be okay with me, too. More than okay.”

“That’s settled, then.” And Padmé tilted her head up and kissed him—her best friend, the father of her children, her boyfriend—again.

They were practically glued to each other for the rest of the day, hugging and kissing and cuddling and holding hands as if they were trying to make up for all the months and years they’d wasted not doing those things. After putting the twins to bed, they spent several hours entwined on the sofa, sometimes kissing, sometimes talking, sometimes simply sitting there quietly and basking in each other’s presence.

Eventually it came time for them to go to bed too, and once they’d both crawled under the covers, Anakin wrapped his arms around Padmé and pulled her close. She tugged his head towards hers for a slow, lazy kiss.

“I can’t believe I get to kiss you now,” Anakin murmured when they broke apart, looking at her in wonder and reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Padmé smiled broadly and kissed him yet again. “Why didn’t we do this years ago?”

“I don’t know. You’d think we could’ve figured out we had feelings for each other without having to get any babies involved,” he said, grinning. “Then again, if we _had_ figured it out sooner, we might not have ended up with Luke and Leia, so I’d say the delay was more than worth it.”

“That’s true.” Padmé nestled into his chest, indescribable warmth flooding her from head to toe. “I love you, Ani.”

“I love you, too,” said Anakin, giving her one last kiss.

He fell asleep soon afterwards and Padmé simply watched him for a while, tracing patterns on his skin and occasionally planting small kisses here and there. For the first time in over a year, she felt utterly, completely content. For the first time in over a year, she didn’t feel as though there was something unresolved between her and Anakin, some underlying tension, some things left unsaid. For the first time in over a year, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An unexpectedly quick update bc I'm currently procrastinating my English paper and have been working on this instead to trick myself into thinking I was being productive lmao. I don't know why I decided to include an opening scene in Anakin's POV, but I did, so shoutout to everyone who'd previously asked for Anakin POV haha (it switches back to Padme after the first scene)
> 
> Warning: EXTREME fluff ahead. I'm serious. All I ever write is fluff, and even then I got a cavity writing this. Enjoy :D (also, it says 1.5 years later but really it's a little less bc chapter 11 ended in December and this picks up in April and then May a year and 4-5 months later...gotta keep track of the timeline a lot more carefully when there's pregnancy and babies involved omg)

**1.5 Years Later**

“I love you so much, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Padmé Amidala Naberrie, will you marry me?” Anakin paused and cursed under his breath. “No, that sounds stupid, she knows her own name, I don’t have to say the full thing. But that article said it was more romantic to say her full name…but _I_ think it sounds like she’s about to get yelled at by her parents…I don’t know, what do you guys think?”

He looked hopefully at Luke and Leia—or rather, at Leia, who stared blankly back at him. Luke had given up on paying attention and was currently playing with blocks a few feet away. Anakin sighed. “Why am I asking you for advice? You’re not even two yet. You have no idea what I’m saying to you right now, do you?”

Leia just giggled at him.

Anakin shook his head, chuckling, then picked her up and kissed her chubby little cheeks, making her giggle again. “I don’t know why I’m so scared to ask Mommy to marry me,” he told her. “I _know_ she’ll say yes. But I’m still nervous.”

“Want ball,” Leia informed him, pointing across the room.

“Okay, you go play with the ball.” Anakin put her down again and she tottered away.

“Daddy!” Luke exclaimed.

Anakin looked over. “Yes?”

“Hi!”

“Hi, Luke,” Anakin said with another laugh. Luke’s new favorite thing to do was to say hi to whoever was nearby, regardless of whether or not he’d been in their presence for hours already. Anakin checked his watch and saw that it was almost three. “Do you guys want your snack now?”

Neither answered, but Anakin picked them both up and brought them into the kitchen anyway. He settled them in their highchairs, then grabbed two bananas, cut them into small pieces, and gave one plate to each twin. “Ba-na-na!” Luke cheered, while Leia scowled. Luke gobbled his up, and eventually (after much persuasion from Anakin) Leia deigned to eat hers as well.

Anakin set them down on the ground and watched as they toddled back towards the nursery before cleaning up the remnants of their snacks and following them. They liked playing more independently now that they were older, so Anakin just sat on the floor and watched them to make sure they didn’t get into any trouble.

His mind soon wandered back to his upcoming proposal to Padmé. He had it all planned out: it was going to be on Mother’s Day because Shmi, Jobal, and Sola were taking her out on a moms-only spa-trip-slash-shopping-spree, which would give Anakin time to get everything ready. They were having lunch at the Naberries’ beforehand, so Anakin would leave the twins with Ruwee and return to the apartment to prepare a romantic candlelit dinner for when Padmé got home.

When he’d first started brainstorming, Anakin had considered taking her out to a nice restaurant, but he’d quickly rejected the idea. He didn’t think Padmé would be very happy about being proposed to in public, not to mention that asking the most important question of his life in front of a crowd of goggling strangers wasn’t exactly high on Anakin’s to-do list, either. So he’d decided on an intimate dinner at home instead; he was going to make lasagna using Jobal’s secret recipe, since that was Padmé’s favorite meal.

In terms of getting ready for the proposal, it was very convenient that Anakin was a teacher: he was currently on April vacation, which meant that he’d had five entire weekdays home alone while Padmé had had to go to work. He’d been spending most of that day trying to decide what he was going to say when he proposed, though Mother’s Day was still a few weeks away, and during the previous days he’d made the lasagna three times until he was sure he could do it perfectly. Anakin had donated the three pans of lasagna to a delighted Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and sworn them to secrecy under the pretense that he was planning a surprise dinner for Padmé. He just didn’t mention to them that he was also going to propose that evening. He’d wanted to spill the beans countless times but had forced himself to keep quiet; he knew Padmé would want to share in the fun of telling their friends the news. Assuming she said yes.

As he’d explained to Leia, Anakin knew objectively that she _would_ say yes. Sure, a year and a half of dating was maybe a little soon to propose, but by this point, in addition to dating for a year and a half, they’d been raising two babies together for two years and living together for a little longer than that, and they’d also been best friends for nearly twenty-five years. All the websites that recommended proposing after two or three years clearly weren’t accounting for the unique circumstances of his and Padmé’s relationship. Anakin felt in his bones that they were ready for marriage, and he was sure Padmé felt the same way. Over the past few months, he’d done his best to find out her thoughts about marrying him without making it obvious that he was going to propose, and she’d responded very positively.

But even so, Anakin didn’t think he’d ever been more nervous in his entire life. Except maybe the day the twins were born. He would’ve gone crazy not being able to talk to _anyone_ about it, so he’d confided in Shmi, who had cried for quite a while and had then had to be talked out of starting to plan the wedding before Padmé even said yes. He had also discussed it with Ruwee and Jobal; he knew Padmé would be irritated if she thought he’d asked her father for her hand in marriage as if she was a possession to be passed off from one man to the next, but Anakin had thought it would be courteous to inform her parents of his intentions ahead of time and ask for their approval. To his relief, approval had been heartily given (a fair amount of tears were shed during that conversation as well), and all three parents had been instrumental in helping him orchestrate everything so that Padmé would be out of the house at the right time.

All that was left to do was wait. And to persuade Padmé to let her parents look after Luke and Leia overnight on the day in question. Anakin knew she would be loath to do so on Mother’s Day, of all days, but if he played his cards right, he’d be able to convince her.

* * *

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Padmé said, frowning slightly.

“Why not? We haven’t had a night to ourselves in ages,” Anakin pointed out, voice muffled due to the fact that he was currently digging around under the sofa for a marker Luke had tossed carelessly aside after moving on to a new color.

“That’s true, but it’s Mother’s Day. I can’t send my kids out of the house on _Mother’s Day._ They’re what makes me a mother.”

“Technically, didn’t _I_ make you a mother?”

He was still hidden from view, but Padmé could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and she rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you full of yourself?”

Anakin laughed and wriggled out from under the sofa, then returned the marker to the bin and plopped down beside her. They fondly observed the twins for a few moments—Luke was still coloring cheerfully and Leia was frowning in concentration as she tried to fit the next piece into her puzzle—before Anakin said, “Anyway, yes, the twins wouldn’t be spending the night with their mother on Mother’s Day, but they would be with their _grand_ mother, and besides, we’ll spend all morning and afternoon with them.”

“But our moms and Sola are making me go with them on that spa-trip-slash-shopping-spree,” Padmé reminded him. “So I’ll only have the morning and _part_ of the afternoon with the twins.”

Anakin snaked an arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. “Padmé, you’re an outstanding mom, and you deserve to treat yourself for _one day_ out of three hundred and sixty-five. The whole point of Mother’s Day is to celebrate mothers, and what better way to do that than a spa-trip-slash-shopping-spree followed by a relaxing night alone together?”

That _did_ sound awfully nice. Padmé felt herself starting to waver. “I don’t know…”

“Just imagine it. We can stay up late, have some wine, get a little tipsy, be as _loud_ as we want without worrying about waking up the twins…” Anakin said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She blushed slightly at the implication. “Okay, well, I don’t know if getting tipsy beforehand is a good idea. You and I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to drunk sex, and I don’t really want a third kid right now,” she said jokingly.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re back on birth control, isn’t it?” They both laughed. “And after all that, we can _sleep in_ the next morning for once and have a leisurely breakfast, and then go pick the twins up again and spend the rest of the day with them.”

“That would be great, except that the day after Mother’s Day is a Monday,” Padmé said. “So we can’t sleep in.”

“We can if we both take the day off work.”

She raised her eyebrows. “So it’s a two-day thing, then?”

“Come on, it’s just one day off. You _never_ use your vacation time.”

“Yeah, because I like to save it for emergencies in case one of the twins gets sick or something, or for when you’re on summer break so all four of us can spend some family time together.”

“Pleeeease? _One_ day,” Anakin wheedled.

Padmé was running out of protests, and he was looking at her with the most beseeching puppydog eyes she’d ever seen. It was terribly unfair. “My parents might not even want to watch them that night,” she tried.

“They said they’d love to. I already asked,” Anakin said.

Padmé looked at him in surprise. “You did? But you hate asking my parents to watch them overnight. You always say it feels like you’re asking them, and I quote, ‘Hey, can Luke and Leia stay over at your house so I can spend the whole night banging your daughter?’”

“And I do hate it because it does feel like that, but I got over myself and asked and they’re happy to have the twins for the night,” he said, grinning.

Padmé laughed. “Well…okay then,” she said at last, leaning against him. “So what exactly are we going to do that night? Aside from all those things you just said.”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

“Oh, so now it’s a surprise, too?”

“You bet. I have to surprise my beautiful girlfriend every once in a while or else she might leave me for someone more worthy of her.”

“Shut up, you dork. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

* * *

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Padmé woke up to the sight of a pair of overexcited two-year-olds (or rather, one-year-eleven-months-and-twenty-three-day-olds) jumping up and down on her bed. “Hi, darlings,” she said, sitting up and pulling them both close to her. She kissed the tops of their heads, making them giggle. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

She looked up and saw Anakin stepping into the room with a breakfast tray, as he had done for every Mother’s Day since her first one. “It’s only eight,” she informed him, checking the clock. “That’s hardly sleeping for a hundred years.”

“Well, the three of us have been up for ages,” Anakin replied with a grin. He carefully set the tray down on Padmé’s lap, got in bed beside her, and took Luke from her. “Isn’t that right, buddy? We’ve been up since seven getting Mommy’s surprise ready.”

Luke said something that sounded vaguely as if he was trying to mimic the word “surprise,” and both parents chuckled. “Leia, did you give Mommy her card?” Anakin asked. He reached over and tapped the card which Padmé just noticed Leia was holding.

The toddler obligingly held it out to Padmé. “Thank you, sweetie,” Padmé said, taking it from her and giving her another kiss. The front of the card was taken up by two handprints, one yellow and one purple (Luke and Leia’s favorite colors respectively). On the inside Anakin had written _Happy Mother’s Day_ and signed all three names, though there were a few stray scribbles that seemed to indicate he’d attempted to get the twins to hold the pen and make some sort of signature themselves.

“This is so beautiful. Thank you,” Padmé said, beaming. “Is the purple hand yours, Leia? And Luke, is the yellow one yours? Did you make this all by yourselves or did Daddy help you? I bet all that paint was messy.”

The twins babbled incomprehensibly at her in response, and she laughed. She glanced back up and noticed that Anakin was gazing at her intently, so she smiled inquisitively at him and said, “What? Is there something on my face?”

“No, you’re just…you’re so beautiful, Padmé,” he said softly.

Padmé turned a little pink and ducked her head; even after a year and a half together, compliments from Anakin still made her blush, and vice versa too. “I doubt that, seeing as I only woke up five minutes ago.”

Anakin chuckled and reached out to rest his hand on her cheek. “I’m serious. I love you so much,” he said. “And happy Mother’s Day. To the best, prettiest, smartest, nicest, most perfect mom in the world.”

Padmé smiled back, covered his hand with her own, and leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was long, slow, and content, and she was lost in the moment until—

“Ouch!” Padmé broke away to frown at Leia, who had just yanked hard on her hair. “Leia, don’t do that. It’s not nice.”

The twins were still too young to have much of a conscience or sense of right and wrong, but Leia seemed to register Padmé’s unhappy tone, at any rate, so she snuggled against her and smiled so angelically that Padmé immediately softened.

Anakin looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh. “She’s going to be able to get away with anything when she’s older.”

“Wonder where she gets that from.”

“Definitely you. That politician’s charm.”

“Well, you’re the one who somehow talked me into sending them off to my parents’ house tonight. Maybe _you_ should’ve been a politician.”

Anakin made a face. “No way. I hate dealing with adults, they’re so obnoxious. That’s why I teach kindergarten.”

Padmé laughed and finally looked down at the food he had prepared: waffles, an omelet, a bowl of fruit, and a cup of tea. She dug in without further ado; Anakin claimed he had already eaten with the twins, but that didn’t stop him from sneaking bites off her plate. They went into the living room afterwards and Padmé opened her presents, and then she and Anakin played with the twins until it was time to head to her parents’ house for lunch.

Jobal, Ruwee, Shmi, and Sola’s family were all there, and more gifts were exchanged after the meal. The moms left for their spa-trip-slash-shopping-spree around two, Padmé promising the twins that she’d see them the next morning and Anakin that she’d see him at home that evening. She, Jobal, Shmi, and Sola got manicures, pedicures, facials, and massages, and as dubious as she’d been about the outing at first, Padmé had to admit that she’d rarely felt so pampered or relaxed. After that, they headed to the mall, where Padmé bought clothes for herself and presents for the twins’ birthday, which was a week away. She could hardly believe they were going to be two already. How time had flown.

Throughout the afternoon, Padmé wondered in the back of her mind what Anakin’s surprise was going to be, and she felt anticipation bubbling in her stomach as she finally rode the elevator up to their apartment that evening. She had no idea what Anakin had in store, but he’d seemed pretty excited about it, so it must be good. When she walked through the front door, she squinted for a second, taken aback by the sudden darkness. But then she realized that there was a source of light after all—the table was covered with candles. And a vase of roses and several plates of food.

Anakin was standing there, and she saw in surprise that he’d changed into dress pants, a button-down shirt, and a tie. “What’s all this?” she asked, smiling.

He came over and pulled her in for a soft kiss. “My romantic surprise for you,” he said, looking both pleased with himself and a little shy, an overwhelmingly endearing combination. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect, Ani,” Padmé said at once, heart swelling at the thought that Anakin had gone to so much trouble for her. “I love it. I love _you._ And you look amazing, but you’re making me feel underdressed, let me go and change—”

“Nah, you look beautiful,” Anakin interrupted, giving her another kiss. “Let’s just sit down and eat before it gets cold. I made lasagna.”

Padmé smiled at him. “That’s my favorite. Did you use my mom’s secret recipe?”

“Of course. Only the best for you.”

Anakin led her over to the table and chivalrously pulled her chair out for her, a gesture which Padmé found both amusing and sweet, then sat down across from her. As they started eating, he asked about what she had done with Sola and their mothers, so she happily filled him in on all the details, and much to her satisfaction, Anakin liked everything she’d picked out for Luke and Leia’s birthday. But she soon noticed that he seemed a little quieter than usual, and perhaps a bit jittery as well, though when she asked if he was all right, he just waved away her concerns and changed the subject.

Anakin’s slightly odd behavior notwithstanding, Padmé had a wonderful time. It was refreshing to be able to hold an actual conversation over dinner instead of spending the whole meal trying to coax Luke and Leia into eating whichever of the many foods they currently found offensive. And the quiet atmosphere throughout the apartment was nice too, although Padmé thought that it would start to drive her crazy after more than a day or two now that she was so used to all the chaos that went along with two toddlers.

“Well, this surprise was definitely worth the suspense,” she said fifteen or twenty minutes after they’d finished dessert (warm brownies and ice cream). Padmé set her wineglass down on the table and smiled at Anakin. “Thank you so much, Ani, everything was delicious. You’re always so spontaneous and romantic.”

“Does it count as spontaneous if I’ve been planning this for weeks?” he asked dryly, and she laughed. Then he cleared his throat, and there was that jitteriness again. “Actually, there’s one more part of the surprise.”

“Really?” Padmé said, equal parts curious and excited.

Anakin nodded, then stood up, walked over to her, and held out his hand. She gamely took it and allowed him to lead her into the twins’ room. “What are we doing in here?” she said. “I thought this was supposed to be a kid-free night.”

Anakin took a deep breath. “Well, this was the place where I asked you to be my girlfriend,” he began, “so I thought it would be appropriate if it was also where I asked you to be my wife.”

Padmé’s jaw dropped, and tears sprang to her eyes as Anakin got down on one knee, pulled a ring out of his pocket, and held it out to her. “Oh my God, Ani!” she gasped, a smile spreading across her face as utter joy began taking the place of her initial astonishment.

“Wait, don’t say anything yet, because I spent weeks planning out this speech and practicing it on poor Luke and Leia a million times, and I’ll be damned if I let that go to waste,” Anakin said, beaming at her and looking a bit teary himself. Padmé laughed and nodded at him to go on, so he continued, nerves and sheer emotion causing him to stumble a little over his words. “I-I love you, Padmé. You’re the mother of my children, the love of my life, and my best friend. You’re my—my _everything._ I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I’d never known you, and I feel so incredibly lucky and grateful that you’ve been a part of my life for the past twenty-five years. I’ve spent pretty much every single day since I was five with you, and I want to spend all the rest of the days of my life with you, too. Will you marry me?”

Rather than waiting for him to stand back up again, Padmé fell to her knees as well and threw her arms around him, crying openly now. “Yes!” she said through her tears. “Yes, of course yes! I love you, Ani, I love you so much!”

Anakin laughed in relief and exhilaration and turned his head to capture her mouth in a long kiss, then another one, and another and another and another, murmuring “I love you” against her lips between each one.

At last Padmé pulled back and extended her left hand, and he slid the ring onto her finger. They both admired it for a few moments, Padmé observing in delight that it was absolutely perfect. Beautiful and elegant, but not flashy. “Do you like it?” Anakin asked a little anxiously. “Because I did ask about the return policy, so if you want we can go sometime this week and pick out a different one—”

“No, it’s perfect,” Padmé said, smiling and tracing the ring with her right index finger. “You did an amazing job picking it out, Ani. It’s exactly what I would’ve chosen myself. It’s so beautiful.”

He exhaled, looking relieved. “Good. Because you don’t even want to know how long I spent deciding on it.”

She laughed, then went in for another embrace, nestling against him as closely as she could. She was practically in his lap now, and they were still sitting on the floor of the nursery, and in the back of her mind she thought they should probably move to the sofa in the other room or something, but they were both too overjoyed to bother.

After about ten minutes spent smiling, kissing, and wiping away each other’s tears, there was a flurry of phone calls as they shared the news with their families. Padmé wanted to call Obi-Wan and Ahsoka right away, too, but Anakin talked her out of it, pointing out that it would be way more fun to tell them in person and see the looks on their faces.

“So,” he said next. “When should we actually get married? I mean, not that we have to start planning the wedding right this second, though our parents would probably like to.”

“I’m sure they would,” Padmé said, laughing. “Let’s see…obviously this summer would be too soon, and even fall would be kind of a stretch. And then I’m sure you won’t want to do winter, since you get cold so easily. You’d have to wear, like, twelve layers over your tux.” Anakin huffed crossly and she laughed again. “So that brings us to next spring or summer?”

“That sounds perfect,” he said. “But are you sure you don’t mind waiting that long? It’d be at least a year, longer if we decide on summer instead of spring.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t. This way we’ll have a lot of time to plan everything just right,” said Padmé. “I’d rather have a long engagement followed by a perfect wedding than rush all the planning just to get it done sooner.”

Anakin nodded in agreement, then said hopefully, “And maybe while we’re waiting, we can work on buying that little house in the suburbs we’ve been talking about.”

“Yes. Absolutely. Good plan,” Padmé said at once, smiling. She loved their apartment and would miss it when they moved out—the place held so many memories for them—but, suited as it was for two adults and two toddlers, they were going to need more space soon enough as Luke and Leia grew up. And the thought of a house in a quiet neighborhood with a nice backyard for the twins to play in, a house of their very own that she and Anakin could set up and decorate and make into their home together, as a married couple…Padmé quite literally could not think of anything more perfect.

A moment later, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. This time, though, she was quick to deepen it, kissing him more intensely and rolling her hips a little against him, and Anakin groaned softly into her mouth. Padmé pulled away and grinned mischievously at him. “I believe you promised me that some other things were going to happen tonight,” she said.

Anakin returned her smirk with one of his own, and before she could protest, he picked her up with an ease that was truly unfair and carried her into their bedroom.

Afterwards, Padmé was lying curled up against his chest, and Anakin placed gentle kisses on her hair, her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, and finally her lips. “I love you,” he said softly. “My fiancée. My wife-to-be.”

Padmé smiled broadly. “And I love you, my fiancé and husband-to-be.” Saying it out loud sent a thrill through her.

A few peaceful moments passed, and then she began to giggle. “What’s so funny?” Anakin asked with a smile.

“Can you imagine what we would’ve thought in high school if we’d known we’d end up here?” she said.

Anakin started laughing too. “Don’t even go there. It’s too weird to think about. High school me never even considered, like, holding _hands_ with you, let alone anything beyond that. He would’ve been horrified to know about all the things we just did. But probably also weirdly turned on because, you know, teenage boys.”

Then they were both laughing too hard to talk for a minute, but eventually Padmé managed, “High school me would’ve been horrified, too. Though I’m sure she would’ve been less so if she’d known how hot you’d get.”

“Excuse me, I was totally hot in high school,” Anakin said indignantly.

“No, you weren’t. You didn’t get hot until you let your hair grow out a little in college.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking smug. “So you thought I was hot in college?”

“No. Maybe. But only objectively speaking, of course.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Did you ever think I was hot?”

Anakin’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “I never consciously noticed that I thought you were hot,” he said, “but looking back, I’m pretty sure you were the impossibly high standard to which I judged other people without even realizing it. Probably explains why I never dated that much. No one could compare to you.”

A small lump formed in Padmé’s throat at the words, and she said, “I will never understand how you do that.”

“Do what?”

“The thing where we’re joking around and stuff and then you just go and say something ridiculously sweet.”

Anakin smiled and nuzzled her hair. “I guess you just bring out the best in me.”

Padmé shifted closer to him, and he adjusted his grip to hold her more tightly. “You bring out the best in me, too.”

They lay in contented silence for a long time, and Padmé was just starting to doze off when Anakin said, “Padmé?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m so glad we got drunk that night,” he said, sounding both joking and sincere.

She chuckled and slipped her hand into his. Her brand-new engagement ring caught her eye as she did so, and her heart did a pleasant leap. “So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end!!!!! Thank you guys SO MUCH for reading and keeping up with it this whole time, and for all your amazing comments and feedback!!! It was really inspiring and encouraging to hear your thoughts as I was going along and I can't even explain how grateful I am <333 A million thank yous and I really really hope you were happy with the ending!! :)
> 
> Also: a few people have asked about potential prequels/sequels and atm I'm gonna say probably not to that bc 1) everything was wrapped up way too perfectly to allow for a sequel lmao 2) the only prequel I could think of would be a smutty oneshot about That Night and like I'm not great at writing sex scenes as it is and a drunk sex scene would be even harder haha, so what exactly happened That Night will stay open to interpretation ;) and 3) I've been working on this AU forever and I'm feeling ready to move on to something fresh :)


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